


Diamonds are Forever

by tfm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resurrection, even if they don't want to admit it, the top table is absolutely in love with Jester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: Everybody loves Jester.Or, Jester dies, and the Mighty Nein's priorities shift. How hard could it be to get twenty-five thousand gold worth of diamonds?The Mighty Nein make a ridiculous plan, and try not to die following through on it. Whatever it takes, to get their friend back.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey look, I had to learn to write from a perspective that wasn't Beau's. Jury's out on how well I did.
> 
> Anyway, this stemmed from conversation that of all the Mighty Nein, the team would pretty much literally fall apart if Jester died. So Jester doesn't actually appear yet, but everything is centered around her anyway. I haven't written any shipping into it, but you could conceivably read it as any of the Jester ships.

One

The Xhorhaus was quiet.

Quieter than any of them had ever heard it, in spite of the storm that was raging outside. It would be daytime, if the sun was shining, but Beau didn’t think that the sun would be shining on them for a very long time.

Everyone save Yasha and Caduceus were in their respective rooms; Caduceus was out on the roof, communing with the Wildmother – at least, that was what he had told them all he’d been going to do – and Beau had heard one of the doors out onto the balcony click open, so she assumed that Yasha had gone out to watch the storm.

After they’d return from a mission, or a fight, or anything they’d set out to do, Beau had sort of gotten used to hearing Jester’s endless debrief of what it is they’d done, or, sometimes, failing to even come close to addressing what they’d done, meaning that the tiefling had bottled it away to deal with later. Beau would give anything in the world right now to hear one of Jester’s false reassurances that everything was okay.

Anything in the world to just...hear Jester’s voice.

The last time she’d heard Jester’s voice had been right before the dragon’s breath, screaming at them all to get out of the way. After that, darkness. When she woke up…

When she woke up, Jester was dead.

The first Beau knew that anything had happened was when she opened her eyes to Yasha kneeling over her, tears intermingled with blood and sweat on her face. In the first few moments, Beau hadn’t thought anything of it; it was a tough battle, and they’d been slogging it out for almost ten minutes, Jester and Caduceus playing healing tag whenever any of them went down.

Beau was a little surprised that Yasha had been the one to heal her; Jester had probably been closest, after all. It was about that point that Beau realized that Jester was nowhere to be seen, and, just as worryingly, Caduceus had his hand on a despondent looking Fjord’s shoulder, Caleb and Nott hugging beside them. The dragon lay dead on the ground, Yasha’s sword sticking out of its eye socket. She hadn’t even bothered to take it out.

‘Yasha...’ Beau said, slowly. ‘Where...Where’s Jester?’

Yasha seemed surprised and horrified at the question all at once, which should have been enough for Beau to realize what had happened, but she just couldn’t…

She couldn’t…

Not Jester.

‘No, no, no.’ Beau pulled away from Yasha, stumbling to her feet, and falling back down again. She looked down and realized that half of her coat was burned away, and there were blisters bubbling across her stomach. The sound of her movement seemed to alert Caduceus to her being awake, and the firbolg pulled his hand from Fjord’s shoulder, and came over to Beau and Yasha.

He wasn’t crying. Beau wasn’t even sure she’d even seen him cry, or if he was capable of tears. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, in that warm sort of voice of his. ‘You’ll be alright.’ He put a hand on his shoulder, and Beau felt the burns start to disappear. The magic triggered a thought in her mind.

‘You can—you have healing magic,’ she said, desperately. ‘You can bring her back.’ Caduceus didn’t lift his hand from Beau’s shoulder.

‘There’s nothing to bring back,’ he said.

…

Beau’s memories of getting from the dragon’s lair back to the Xhorhas were a bit vague. She supposed that they must have _Teleported _to the Circle, and then walked from there, but try as she might, she couldn’t physically recall having done so. It was like she’d gone straight from the lair to her bedroom – _their_ bedroom – within the span of one blink.

She had been staring at the ceiling, unmoving for what felt like hours, when a sudden, horrible thought struck Beau, and she kicked herself that she hadn’t thought of it before.

_They were going to have to tell Jester’s mother_.

That thought, more than anything else, was the one that broke the dam that she’d been building in her mind, and within seconds, great heaving sobs had overcome her. Staying in the room made it worse. If she stayed here, she was just going to keep crying until her body ached, and her head hurt. She remembered her first week at the Cobalt Soul, where she’d cried herself to sleep every night. At least if Dairon were here, she’d have something to punch.

‘Traveler,’ she said, starting at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know if you listen to the rest of us mere mortals, but we could really use your help right about now.’

As Beau had suspected, there was no answer.

Eventually, Beau pulled herself out of bed, and made her way downstairs. If nothing else, then she could take her mind off of things.

On her way down, she ran into Nott, who asked enough godsdamned questions that it was like being back in Kamordah. Beau brushed them off, and made her way to the _Dim’s Inn_. She didn’t know if they’d have what she was looking for, but it was the only place she knew that might, and it wasn’t as though she was going to go to the Lucid Bastion, and say “hey, do you know where I could find a hooker for the night?”

The _Dim’s Inn_, as it turned out, had exactly what she was looking for, and it only took a short conversation with the proprietor, and ten gold to make it happen.

‘She’s just finishing up getting ready, and will be down in a moment,’ the proprietor said, a lecherous sort of smile on his face, which suggested to Beau that the woman in question was probably with another client.

In the meantime, she could get a drink.

Beau had been so focused on her own mission, she hadn’t noticed the enormous, pale-skinned barbarian sitting at the bar. It surprised her. She’d heard Yasha go out onto the balcony, and had sort of just assumed she’d stayed there. At one point in the middle of Beau’s fugue state, the door must have opened again.

Yasha had a very large ale in front of her, and it didn’t seem to be her first.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ Beau said, as she sat down next to the aasimar.

Yasha stared at her, blinking. ‘I did not think I would see anyone else here.’

‘Yeah, me either,’ Beau admitted. If she’d known that Yasha was going to be here, she might not have done the other thing. She handed the bartender a gold piece, and order an ale comparable in size to Yasha’s.

It came surprisingly quickly, which Beau supposed was the result of the ridiculous tip that she’d given.

‘I need to tell you something,’ Yasha said, after about ten minutes of silence. She sounded fucking miserable. She sounded how Beau felt. ‘I...when we were in the den, fighting the dragon...’ She hesitated. ‘Jester, she uh...She pushed me out of the way.’

‘What?’ Beau blinked. Her brain felt like Caleb had _Slow_ed it with molasses. Yasha was trying to tell her something important, but she couldn’t quite figure out what.

‘She pushed me out of the way,’ Yasha said again. ‘Which meant that...that she died instead of me.’

Beau stared, her mouth open. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that.

‘I won’t blame you if you want me to leave.’

‘I—what?’ It was as though she’d never even gotten that stupid circlet. The one that Jester had spent so fucking long painstakingly braiding into her hair.

‘If you want me to leave. Because I got Jester killed.’

‘I don’t want that,’ Beau said, in a weary sort of voice. She didn’t have nearly enough energy to be the comfort that she knew Yasha needed right now, so she simply put a hand on Yasha’s shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said. ‘You know Jester, she’s—She wouldn’t want any one of us to get hurt.’ It wasn’t the whole truth, but then, Beau had no plans on telling Yasha the whole truth; the truth that Jester had been so fucking cut up about losing Yasha to Obann that she had sworn never to let it happen again. Telling Yasha that wouldn’t do anyone any favors. ‘She loved all of us so godsdamned much.’

They sat together in silence for a long while. For some insane reason, Beau was thinking about Molly. About how he’d died from coming to help her in a fight.

Eventually, there was a hand on Beau’s shoulder. A Drow woman with dark purple skin was standing there. Beau clenched her fist, worried that someone was about to start something. ‘You are Beauregard.’ It wasn’t a question.

_Oh yeah._

There was that whole reason she’d come out into Rosohna proper. Beau gave Yasha a look. Yasha raised an eyebrow. For a brief moment, Beau considered staying. To comfort Yasha, to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault.

But she didn’t.

‘I’ll, uh...see you later.’ Beau stood, and followed the Drow woman upstairs.

...

Yasha Nydoorin stared at the storm.

It was very far away, and seemed to be fading, which she thought was very inconsiderate of it. The anger, and the grief that she felt deserved to be accompanied by wild, lashing winds, by fierce strikes of lightning, and pelting rains.

Instead, it was accompanied by a sad sort of quiet. A quiet that permeated every fiber of your being, and rotted its way from the inside out.

Yasha didn’t mind the quiet; she’d certainly become accustomed to it over the years, as she traveled alone for months on end, fulfilling the needs of the Stormlord. This quiet, though. This quiet, she didn’t like. In a group of people that seemed a little too melancholy (not that Yasha could judge), Jester’s brightness, and endless optimism was a source of great comfort.

Now it was gone, and Yasha was to blame.

She had been right up close to the dragon, slashing, and stabbing, and bashing with her sword, ignorant to the fact that its jaws were widening, its pupils dilating, and a low growl forming in its stomach. She’d barely even noticed Jester push her out of the way, even as the fiery breath filled the room. Sprawled on the ground, she’d felt the searing heat pass over her, and then…

And then, there was nothing.

Yasha could barely remember picking up her sword, and cutting the dragon to pieces, seeing the charred remains of….

Could barely remember running over to heal Beau, and everything else that followed.

When they reached the house, everyone went away to their own little places, leaving Yasha alone on the balcony, watching the storm, not quite loud enough to cover up the soft sobs that were coming from what had been Beau and Jester’s room.

Yasha climbed up onto the balcony edge, and jumped down.

She could not run away. Not this time. Not after everything had happened. The group – her _friends_ – had gone through so much to bring her back, Jester most of all, and judging by the bits and pieces that the others had revealed in the time since, her ordeal had hit Jester the hardest. For Yasha to leave now, it would be an insult to Jester’s memory.

So instead, Yasha did the only thing she knew would bring her some level of comfort in this sort of time. She drank.

She drank a lot. Far more than was probably wise. Enough that when Beau showed up, seeking something similar, Yasha could have sworn there was two of her. But then Beau went upstairs with a Drow woman, and Yasha was alone again.

At this point, she yearned for someone to put a hand on her shoulder, to claim that she’d taken their seat, or that they didn’t like her kind in Rosohna, but no-one did. They looked at the near drunk, six foot tall barbarian with a sword strapped to her back, and decided to stay clear. It was a little bit disappointing.

After an hour or so, Beau came back downstairs, looking a little more relaxed, and definitely very surprised to see Yasha.

‘Didn’t think you’d still be here,’ Beau said, rubbing at what looked like a fingernail scratch on her forearm.

Yasha shrugged.

‘You want to go spar?’

Yasha chugged the rest of her beer, and stood. The room spun for a few seconds, but then righted itself.

‘Yes,’ she said.

Silently, they made their way back to the house, during which time Yasha felt herself getting progressively more sober.

Yasha went up to her room, and changed into something a little more suited to sparring. On her way back down, she ran into Caleb, who had a strange sort of expression on his face, and seemed to be in a hurry to get upstairs.

They sparred for half an hour or so, before Beau had the idea to bring Fjord down. ‘You know, now that he’s got a fancy fucking new sword and all, too.’

Beau wanted to try something where she spring-boarded off of Yasha’s sword, and came down into a focused strike with her staff. Fjord was a little reluctant, especially after it became apparent that he was the one she would be striking at. It took about half a dozen tries to get right, and would be utterly useless in most cases of combat, but it did serve to take Yasha’s mind off of other things, which really had been her main reason for agreeing.

Enough that when Caduceus came knocking on the door, insisting that they all go eat, the world came crashing back down.

…

Caduceus sat cross-legged under the tree.

This wasn’t good.

The Wildmother had never given him all the answers before, but she had never led him astray, either. It had been Her guidance that led them to the dragon’s den, and to the death of Jester. It was...concerning.

Just as concerning was the fact that there didn’t seem to be a clear path from here. There were lots of things to do, of course, but none of them seemed to be anywhere near as problematic as the fact that they were all in an incredible amount of pain right now.

As far as he could tell, every single member of the party blamed themselves in one way or another, and that wouldn’t do at all.

What they had to do next, Caduceus had no idea, but he knew what _he_ had to do next.

Within five minutes, garlic, carrots and onions were sizzling in the pot over the fire. It wasn’t yet winter in Xhorhas, but there was no-one in their right mind that would ever turn down a nice, hearty vegetable soup.

Despite the smells that were wafting through the house, a couple of hours later, Caduceus had to go hunting to track down the rest of the party. He found Caleb first, nose barely an inch from the page of a very thick book. Caduceus didn’t know what the book was about, but the wizard seemed to be reading it very intently.

‘I made soup, if you want to come to the dining room,’ he said, gently. Caleb didn’t look up straight away, and when he did, it was with some irritation.

‘Soup?’ he said, in what might have been an angry voice. ‘Oh, of course, _ja_. I will…’ He looked back to the book. ‘I will finish reading, and then I will come and have soup.’

Next, in the training room, Caduceus found Yasha and Fjord and Beau, in the midst of a sparring session. He managed to duck just in time to avoid sword swinging towards him, and smiled lazily as Fjord gave a hurried apology.

‘Come on, man, it’s alright, at least you didn’t kill him,’ Beau said, and it was about halfway through that last word that she seemed to realize what she’d said, because she went very quiet and didn’t say anything else.

‘There’s soup in the dining room if you’re hungry,’ Caduceus told them.

‘I think that would be a _splendid_ idea,’ Fjord said, putting an encouraging hand on Beau’s shoulder, and turned her towards the door. For a moment, it looked as though she might flip him, but her body seemed to relax all of a sudden, and she headed towards the dining room without a backwards glance.

Yasha took a little bit of convincing, but eventually she, too made her way to the dining room, sword dragging behind her.

After about forty-five minutes of prodding, and poking, and wheedling, Caduceus managed to get all of them into the dining room to eat at least one bowl of soup, and a couple of pieces of garlic bread.

‘It’s so fucking quiet,’ Beau muttered, after half an hour or so where the only sounds were the clinking of metal against wood, and Nott slurping. She wasn’t wrong. Though Caduceus rarely listened to whatever it was that Jester tended to babble on about, he found the white noise comforting.

Out of the corner of his eye, Caduceus saw Nott take out her flask, stare at it, and then put it away again.

‘Everything okay?’ he asked. It was a silly question. Of course it wasn’t okay.

‘Jester doesn’t like it when I drink,’ Nott said. The silence that had been stifling, suddenly turned awkward. Next to her, Caleb reached across, and put a hand to her shoulder.

He said nothing.

...

The first thing that Nott the Brave did when she shut the door to her room was to start drinking.

Thankfully, her flask had made it through the battle unscathed; there was a hairy moment where it had almost fallen down a crevasse in the mountain. Of course, she had _also_ almost fallen down the same crevasse, but that hardly seemed to matter; if she wasn’t around, then there would be no-one to drink from the flask anyway.

For a while, drinking made her feel better, and then, it only started to make her feel worse. Every sip she took reminded her of the fact that Jester hated how much she drank, reminded her of how disappointed Jester would be.

Nott twisted the flask shut, and hung it back on her belt.

There was a knock on the door. ‘It is me,’ came Caleb’s voice. Nott had told him a hundred times that he didn’t have to knock, but he always did anyway.

‘Come in,’ she told him.

Caleb looked distracted. He looked worried. Even if he never admitted it out loud, Nott knew that he had something of a soft spot for Jester.

‘I am going out,’ he said. ‘I want to go and talk to Essek, to see if perhaps he knows a way in which we can...fix this,’ he said.

‘They brought me back,’ she said, fixing her gaze on him intently. ‘Maybe you can bring her back.’

Caleb looked thoughtful. He looked as though his mind was spinning with a hundred thousand ideas. He looked like he didn’t want to say anything until he was sure. ‘I will let you know what I find,’ was all he said.

No sooner than Caleb had left, Nott heard another set of footsteps, this time louder, not even trying to be stealthy.

She stood up, and went out into the hall, where she saw a red-eyed Beau shutting the door of her own room.

‘Where are you going?’ Nott asked. She wasn’t exactly trying to sound accusatory, but they had already lost one person, they didn’t need to lose someone else.

‘Out.’

‘To do what?’

‘To get drunk, and to get laid,’ Beau said, shortly. ‘I know you can help me with one of those, and I don’t think you want to help me with the other, so unless there’s something else...’

‘Wait,’ Nott called out after her. ‘Do you have your symbol?’ Beau pulled the symbol of the Bright Queen out from beneath her crop top, and flashed it.

‘Anything else, Mom?’ Nott hesitated. She’d be lying if she said that being called “Mom” didn’t make her feel a pang of nostalgia for being with Luc and Yeza.

‘Stay safe,’ she said.

Nott hated that she was looking forward to going to Nicodranas. A medium level of dread had spread over the entire house at the prospect of telling Jester’s mother that her daughter was dead. For her part, though, Nott was aching to see her own family, to hold them close, and have their presence reassure her that everything would be okay.

She packed her bag carefully, knowing that they might not be there for very long. Longer would be better, but it would also be worse. Longer would mean spending more time with her family, but also having to spend more time around Jester’s mother, who would surely hate them after what they told her.

Nott knew for certain that she at least hated herself.

It had been her and Jester, sneaking into the dragon’s den. Her and Jester, uncovering things, solving mysteries, drawing dicks. Her and Jester, until it had been just...just her.

Nott had been hiding behind a pillar, waiting for a moment to dive out and fire her crossbow. The dragon’s fiery breath hadn’t come anywhere near her, and the first she heard of what had happened was when she’d heard Yasha’s screams.

The first time they’d ever gone up against a dragon, Nott had helped Jester get out of there alive.

This time, she hadn’t.

…

The first thing that Caleb Widogast did on returning to the Xhorhas was go to the library. The first thing he did on entering the library was lock the door and pull out the _other_ book. The one with very detailed notes about the timeline, and how he could change it.

He _had_ to change it. There was no question about that. He _had _to do something. If not through Dunamancy, then through some other means.

After an hour or so’s reading, Caleb knew that he would be much more efficient in locating the information that he needed if he were able to either talk to an expert, or visit a much more expansive library. Since they had not yet been granted access to the Marble Tomes Conservatory, then the former was likely to be their best bet.

Caleb put away the books that had been strewn across the table, and went to find Nott. ‘I am going out.’

Nott, who had been – Caleb sniffed the air – who had been drinking – didn’t seem at all surprised that he was going out, and was even less surprised when he told her who he was going to talk to.

‘They brought me back,’ she said, through mildly slurred words. ‘Maybe you can bring her back.’ Caleb nodded.

‘I will let you know what I find,’ he said.

Caleb made the trek over to the Lucid Bastion. On any other day, he might have considered it a nice walk; night air was not too warm, and there were not too many people out on the streets. The storm that had been lingering around had already passed.

He waited for just twenty minutes in the halls, and stood when he saw Essek gliding towards him.

‘I would have come to you,’ Essek said, lightly. Caleb could not quite interpret the look on his face.

‘I uh...We do not currently have the ability to send messages,’ Caleb said. His voice was a little gravelly, and he coughed to clear it. Essek stared at him. The wizard had described himself as a “prodigy,” though Caleb did not think he needed to be a prodigy to understand the implications of what Caleb had said.

‘I see,’ was all Essek said. ‘And you are...’

‘I am looking for a way to, uh. To change the tides of fate.’ If Essek hadn’t figured it out from the first sentence, then he would definitely figure it out from that.

Essek gave a little sigh, which, frankly, was all the answer that Caleb need. _No, it is not possible_, the sigh said. ‘Even high-level Dunamancy, I am afraid, is as yet unable to do something so big. You could go back, certainly, but you would be dooming yourself only to relive the event. Even to try and change it...You may be better trying to utilize divine magic.’

Caleb had feared as much, but he would be remiss if he had not at least asked the question. ‘Thank-you for your honesty,’ he said. He was not entirely happy with the answer, both in regards to this situation, and in regard to...others. He could, of course, research ways in which to bend fate beyond the Dunamancy that had already been discovered, but that was a task that would take years, or decades, even. This was a situation where they needed to be moving in days, if not hours.

Essek gave him a Sending Stone (“for your to use until you can bring her back”) and sent him on his way.

Caleb returned to the house, returned to the library, and refocused his energies on looking for divine spells. The problem was, of course, that he was not a divine magic practitioner. He knew enough about divine spells though, to know what to look for, and read through half a dozen books before he found a promising looking spell.

It was of a high enough difficulty that it seemed unlikely that even Caduceus would be able to cast it, but it seemed like asking for the perspective of a Cleric would be the next thing to do. He ran into Yasha on the stairs, looking like she’d been drinking heavily.

Caduceus was upstairs in the garden, sitting cross-legged under the tree. Caleb was fairly certain he had been doing so since their return to the Xhorhaus, in an attempt to seek guidance from the Wildmother.

‘May I talk to you?’ he asked, thrusting the book towards him.

‘Of course,’ Caduceus said, in a voice that a stranger might have considered serene, but Caleb could sense the underlying tension. ‘Sit down.’

Caleb sat down awkwardly, legs crossed. He passed over the book, and pointed out the passage.

‘There,’ he said. ‘_True Resurrection_,’ he said. ‘Have you heard of it?’

Caduceus stared at him. Stared for an uncomfortable long time. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘No,’ Caduceus said. He was frowning slightly. ‘I just...I didn’t know they had names.’ At that point, Caleb remembered that he was entirely sure that Caduceus couldn’t read. He pulled the book away.

‘It is a spell,’ Caleb told him. ‘That allows you to resurrect a person without a body.’

‘Oh. Can you cast it?’

‘_Nein_.’ Caleb shook his head. ‘It is of divine magic, and far beyond my skill level. I thought perhaps that...even if you cannot cast it, you may know more about it.’

There was a pause. ‘I may have to consult the Wildmother on this one. Even if I don’t know how to cast the spell, then I’m sure she’ll be able to point me in the direction of someone that can.’

Caleb nodded, and started to make his way back downstairs. When he got to the second floor, he stopped. Beau was pacing the hallway outside Fjord’s room. She looked a little better than she had even a few hours ago. He pretended not to notice the bruises on her neck, and the fingernail marks on her arms.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked. She stared at him.

‘Are any of us fucking alright?’ she asked.

‘Ah, _nein_, I suppose we are not.’ He frowned.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Waiting for Fjord,’ Beau said with a shrug. ‘He agreed to come and spar with me and Yasha, but he said he’s gotta finish whatever it is he’s doing first. What about you?’

Caleb hesitated. Then he showed her the book. It didn’t take her long to figure out what he was getting at.

‘Holy shit, man.’ Beau whistled. ‘Do you think we could do it?’

‘It is a very powerful spell. We may have to call in a ringer.’

Beau nodded, but didn’t seem overly concerned. They knew a few people. Surely someone would be able to help.

‘There is, of course, the other problem,’ Caleb said. Beau frowned.

‘What problem?’ Fjord asked, softly. Caleb jumped slightly. He hadn’t even seen the door open. Hadn’t realized that Fjord was even standing there, listening.

Caleb pointed at the material components section of the spell. ‘It requires, uh...a lot of diamonds.’

‘We’ve got a few diamonds,’ Beau said, not even bothering to look down. ‘I’m sure we could get a few more.’

‘This is a little more than a few. This spell requires twenty-five thousand gold worth of diamonds.’

There was a beat of silence. ‘Holy fuck, Caleb,’ Beau said, angrily, as though she thought he had been holding something back. ‘Where the fuck are we gonna find_twenty-five thousand _fucking gold worth of diamonds.’

‘Well, _ja_,’ Caleb said. ‘Like I said, it is a problem.’

...

The next morning, Fjord woke with a feeling of dread in his stomach.

They got their things together quietly, and Caleb drew his _Teleportation Circle _on the floor of the guest room.

‘Maybe we should warn Yussa this time,’ Fjord said, lightly. ‘Jester, can you—’ _Fuck. _There was an awkward silence. ‘Caduceus, do you happen to have _Sending _prepared?’

‘I don’t, I’m sorry.’

Fjord sighed. He supposed they would have to live with having disturbed Yussa. Hopefully, his gratitude at having been saved from the Heirloom Sphere would be strong enough to overcome the rudeness of their unexpected arrival.

It was enough. Yussa was by no means cheerful to see them, but he didn’t argue, certainly not after looking them over one by one, and noticing the very conspicuous absence.

They didn’t linger.

Whatever was waiting for them at the Lavish Chateau, it was better done sooner than later. After that, they could plan their next steps. What their next steps actually were, he had no idea; they’d all been so despondent after dinner, they hadn’t even discussed what they were going to do.

Fjord had heard a lot of terrible sounds in his life. The creaking of wood his first night on a boat. The sound of an explosion on the _Tide’s Breath_, the sound of Uk'otoa's voice inside his head. None of them came even remotely close to the sound that Marion Lavorre made when she set her eyes upon the Mighty Nein as they approached the Lavish Chateau.

She was not stupid, after all. She would have seen them coming up, without her daughter, without Jester. Would have seen the utterly broken looks on all their faces. It didn’t take much to put two and two together.

The single look that Fjord gave her before he’d even opened his mouth seemed to confirm that. Marion fell to her knees, wailing. ‘My sapphire,’ she cried. ‘My little sapphire.’

The minotaur, Bluud, on hearing the commotion, had come to the door, and made the connections just as quickly. He gave them all a look that could have been either enraged, or filled with grief. It was hard to tell. He helped Marion to her feet, and half-carried her inside. Fjord hesitated slightly, before looking back to the rest of the group.

‘We have to go in,’ Beau said. Fjord jumped, startled. He hadn’t realized that she’d been standing at his side. ‘We owe her that much.’ Fjord didn’t know whether she was talking about Jester or Marion, but the sentiment remained. They had run away from a lot of things, but they couldn’t run away from this.

‘Yes,’ Fjord agreed. There was a sickening feeling in his stomach. He knew that it was him who would be expected to do the talking, and even though it would be the easiest thing in the world to shirk that responsibility, he knew that he had a duty to tell Marion what had happened. He had promised on more than one occasion to protect Jester, and he had to admit that he had failed.

Bluud brought tea, and Caduceus was the only one to drink it. The rest of them sat clutching their cups, either listening intently, or trying very hard not to listen to Fjord tell Marion of their fight with the dragon.

Marion, for her part, had put on a mask of composure, but it was not so good that Fjord couldn’t see her whole body shaking. He knew then, what he had always known. Knew what they had to do.

‘What are you going to do now?’ Marion asked, in a quiet sort of voice that Fjord had never heard before, not from Marion, nor from anyone else.

He didn’t even bother consulting the rest of the party. He knew that they would absolutely agree with what he was about to say.

‘We’re going to bring her back,’ he said.


	2. Fjord

Two

‘Holy shit, dude, did you see that?’

Jester Lavorre was, for some reason, back in her childhood bedroom. It was just the way she had left it, bed made (a little messily), paintings all over the walls, and no small number of pastries stashed around the room.

The Traveler sat cross-legged on the end of her bed, a sad sort of smile on his face. ‘I did see it, yes.’

‘I was like...right up there, and then he—’ She made a great show of re-enacting the dragon’s fire breath. ‘Man, that was so scary.’ She sat down opposite the Traveler, and, knowing the answer she was going to get, asked the question anyway. ‘Did I die?’

‘You did, my child.’

‘Oh.’ Jester frowned. Though it had seemed obvious, the Traveler confirming it...Jester wasn’t sure how to feel. She _didn’t_ want to die, of course, but if dying meant that her friends would live, then she would willingly – not eagerly, but willingly – make that trade. ‘Well that sucks.’

‘It does a bit, yes.’

‘Can you send me back?’ Jester asked, eying the Traveler curiously. He had a strange sort of look on his face.

‘My power is not limitless,’ he admitted. ‘I can send you back only if the proper rites are conducted.’ He paused. ‘Unfortunately, the destructive power of a dragon’s breath has made that...problematic.’

Jester’s brow furrowed. She didn’t understand what he meant. Then, she remembered when they’d been in Gelidon’s lair, and the icy breath had nearly flash-frozen Beau and Reani. Oh. There was nothing left of her to bring back. Well that  _definitely _ sucked.

‘Your friends, are, of course, working on that,’ the Traveler continued. ‘And it may take them some time. So we have a little while.’

Jester was torn. For so long, she’d been wanting to spend time with the Traveler properly, with him as more than just a spectral image sitting across from her. But she also really wanted to see her friends, to reassure them that she was okay (even if it wasn’t necessarily true).

‘Are they like..._really_ sad?’ she asked him. Then, she gasped. ‘Did any of them admit that they were in love with me the whole time?’ The Traveler’s bittersweet look persisted.

‘They were – they are – very upset. As was your mother.’ A wave of horror and sadness spread across Jester, followed by guilt. She had forgotten about her mother finding out. ‘Your friends...they care for you a great deal. More, perhaps than you even know.’

Jester was only half-listening, trying not to imagine her mother down on her knees, sobbing in grief. ‘I’m sorry, Momma,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so sorry.’

...

Somehow, the fact that they were committing to the idea of bringing Jester back sent mixed feelings through the group. Fjord had thought that it would ease the tension a little bit, and for some of them, it had. Caleb, on the other hand, seemed more worried about the logistics, and the fact that trying to bring someone back was no guarantee that they would come back. Strangely, it was Yasha that was on the same page as the wizard. Not that they didn’t want to bring Jester back. They were just the least optimistic about it being a favorable outcome.

‘You were the one that found the damn spell in the first place,’ Beau hissed under her breath. They were planning in between mouthfuls of breakfast. Marion had instructed the kitchen staff at the Chateau to pull out all the stops, which Fjord thought was very kind, considering the reason that they’d come here.

‘_Ja_, well I was hoping that I would find something a little more in my own wheelhouse,’ Caleb said. ‘I would feel more comfortable casting a spell that I had some experience with.’

‘Not to mention, twenty-five thousand gold is a _lot_ of diamonds.’ Fjord said. He was not trying to argue against their situation, but there was no harm in being realistic.‘I mean,’ Fjord continued, half exasperated. ‘Is anyone here a trained diamond appraiser?’ He asked the question not really expecting an answer, and was surprised when Beau said:

‘Yeah.’

‘What?’

‘Show me any gem, and I can tell you whether or not it’s real, and tell you how much it’s worth,’ Beau said with a shrug. ‘My parents made me learn how to make jewelry. You pick some things up.’

This was a little more than just “picking some things up,” but Fjord decided to let it slide. Nott, however, did not.

‘Prove it!’ she demanded, reaching into a pocket, and thrusting a handful of stones in Beau’s directions.

‘Those are rocks,’ Beau said, in a remarkably patient voice.

‘That proves nothing!’ Nott gave Beau a suspicious look, and shoved the rocks back into her pocket.

‘Here.’ Caleb took out his own component pouch, and separated out the gemstones from the rest of the components. Beau rolled her eyes, but pulled the gems towards her. She also reached into her pack and dug around for a small eyeglass, and a pair of tweezers, neither of which Fjord had ever seen before. This day was just full of surprises.

Beau picked up the first gem with the tweezers, and held it up to the lens. Fjord had spent enough time at sea to recognize a pearl.

‘Pearl, not too bad a grade, nice luster, but a few imperfections probably worth about a hundred gold.’

The next gem was clear and shiny, and Beau only looked at it for a few seconds. ‘This is just glass.’

‘It is the crystal bead I use to put up the dome,’ Caleb explained, taking the bead back. ‘It has no material value.’

The next was a diamond; a pretty small one, too. Beau told them it was worth about fifty gold.

Caleb looked doubtful. ‘You have, I’m sure, been paying attention to the components of the spells that I cast.’

‘Look, man, you either believe me or you don’t; I don’t care. We’ve got fifty gold worth of diamonds, and we need another twenty-four thousand, nine hundred and fifty, so either we can keep arguing, or we can shut up and get the job done.’

Caduceus dug into his own component pouch, and pulled out another diamond. ‘I believe this one is worth around three hundred gold.’ Beau took it, and examined it, giving a nod after a few moments.

‘Yeah, probably about three hundred,’ Beau agreed, and put it in the small pile on the table. Marion, who, up until this point in the conversation, had just been listening, took off he earrings, and put them on the table. Then, she walked over to the dresser, and rummaged around, coming back with more jewelry. Beau examined all of them. She got to a stunning looking necklace, with a diamond tear-drop pendant, and paused. ‘This one’s fake. The gold is real, but the diamond isn’t.’ She gave the necklace back with an apologetic sort of smile. Marion nodded; either she had already known, or was indifferent to the revelation. Even still, Marion’s jewelery put them up to a bit over two thousand, which meant there was only twenty-three thousand to go.

Easy enough.

Beau pulled out her journal, and, flipping past pages and pages of notes on history, and geography, and all sorts of things, settled on a page near the back. At the top of the page, she wrote “22850.” It seemed like a far bigger number when it was written down like that.

They decided that the diamonds would be safest staying at the Lavish Chateau, with Marion. They were too often spending the night on the road, or in shady inns, or in the middle of dungeons. Unsavory enough places that pockets could very easily be picked. Marion gently put the diamonds into a velvet-lined strongbox, which she then locked in her desk. Those diamonds weren’t going anywhere.

‘There is one place you might try first,’ she said, in a hesitant sort of voice. ‘A person who I am told has many resources, and...may be inclined to help, given the nature of his relationship with Jester.’

Fjord gave a look around the rest of the group. Beau, Nott and Caleb had knowing sorts of looks on their faces, whereas Caduceus and Yasha looked politely confused.

‘Am I right in thinking that you’re referring to the ah...gentleman that you suspect to be Jester’s father?’ Fjord asked.

Marion took in a breath. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Whether or not he is willing to accept that, I do not know, but...the man I knew – the man I loved – would have helped.’

‘I mean, let’s be real, none of us actually think he’s ever been receptive to Jester calling him “dad,” right?’ Nott was as blunt as ever, and none of them missed the pained look that crossed Marion’s face.

‘Right,’ Beau agreed. ‘So if we rock up, and say “hey, your maybe daughter died and we need a shitton of diamonds,” how exactly is that gonna play out?’

‘Well,’ Fjord said, fairly. ‘We’ve done good work for him before. He doesn’t have to know the reason we need diamonds.’

‘I would think it would be fairly obvious,’ Caleb pointed out. ‘There are not a great deal of spells that one needs diamonds for, and certainly not so many.’

‘Surely there are arcane spells that use diamonds.’

Caleb hesitated. ‘_Ja,_ of course there are,’ he said. ‘_Gate_, for one. _Clone_, for another. Many also use diamond dust. Both of those spells well beyond my skill level, and neither of which require twenty-five thousand gold worth. If we only needed a small amount, then I am sure that buying them would be the easiest way to go.’ The words seemed to spark an idea in Beau’s head, because she suddenly go a look on her face. The sort of look that usually meant things were about to get interesting.

‘Maybe we’re thinking about this the wrong way,’ she said, thoughtfully. ‘We’re thinking along the lines of “earn diamonds,” or “earn money and buy diamonds.” But where do all of those diamonds come from?’

‘I get the feeling I’m not going to like where this conversation is going,’ Caduceus said, lightly.

‘Look, diamond mining is a shitty, shitty industry. They get to create the mark-ups because they control the market, and they treat their workers like shit. I would feel no qualms whatsoever about stealing from a diamond mine. Just putting that out there.’

Fjord didn’t even want to know how Beau knew so much about diamond mining. He supposed that being a criminal that had a more than passing knowledge of gemstones meant that she’d tried to steal directly from the source before. Which would also explain the knowledge about gem value.

‘I am also fine with it,’ Nott piped up, as though any of them would have thought otherwise. They had certainly done shadier things for worse reasons. In fact, the only one that showed any real hesitation was Caduceus, and even then, it was out of concern that he was straying from the Wildmother’s path, rather than any real moral dilemmas. At any rate, it would certainly be quicker than going to every jewelery seller on Wildemount, paying their ridiculous mark-ups, and potentially taking months, if not years to accumulate the diamonds that they needed.

‘Okay,’ Fjord nodded. ‘Alright. All in favor of...’ He couldn’t believe he was saying this. ‘Robbing a diamond mine, show of hands.’ Beau and Nott’s hands went up immediately. Caleb and Yasha’s followed after a couple of moments of hesitation. Finally, Caduceus put his hand up. ‘I do think we should at least try to procure some legitimately first,’ Fjord said, even as he put up his own hand. ‘If we can manage to get them without...adverse risk, then all the better.’

‘It’s Jester, man,’ Beau said, a little angrily. ‘She’d run the risk for us, why shouldn’t we run the risk for her.’

‘I’m not saying we shouldn’t run the risk, just that there are options to be considered.’

There was an undercurrent of tension running through the group that Jester’s presence would normally have alleviated. She would have made a dick joke, or offered everyone pastries, or...or done_ something_ to stop them from snapping at each other’s throats. Not that there was all that much snapping going on. They were too tired, too aggrieved to be snappy.

‘Well, we’ll need to plan anyway,’ Beau said, waving a hand. She didn’t look like she particularly wanted to fight regarding this, which really should have been more concerning. ‘Find a place with enough diamonds. So I guess we can go and talk to the Gentleman in the meantime, and get something that way.’

Whether or not everyone agreed with the course of action, Fjord didn’t know, but at the very least, no-one argued.

They made plans to leave in the afternoon, Nott wanting to spend the few precious hours with Luc and Yeza. Without a word to any of them, Caleb found a quiet corner, and began to read, and Caduceus wandered outside to go and talk to the Wildmother. For a brief moment, Fjord considered joining him, but that quiet, contemplative mediation wasn’t really his style. Beau told them that she was going to the beach, to meditate, but she had her staff, and her backpack with her, so what she was really planning to do, Fjord didn’t know. He decided not to push the matter.

That left Yasha, who had been rather silent the entire time they’d been at the Chateau. The fact that she was still with them, though, rather than running off after the Stormlord, Fjord took as a victory.

‘I might...go for a walk,’ Yasha said, hastily, as though she didn’t want to be left alone with Fjord. Fjord wasn’t used to being alone. Ever since he’d been at the orphanage, he’d always been surrounded by people, whether the other orphans, or fellow sailors, or members of the Mighty Nein. The times in which he’d been alone had been quiet, and disconcerting. He wasn’t much a fun of being stuck with himself for company.

No, he remembered. Not just himself. There was also Marion, a woman to whom he owed the greatest of apologies.

She stared at him, a little confused, perhaps, when he said his part. ‘You did not kill her yourself,’ Marion said. ‘I do not think a personal apology is in order.’

‘I promised you that I would protect her,’ Fjord said. ‘I...I failed.’ He had been there, at the dragon’s left flank, when the creature opened its jaws wide, and...He had been the one that insisted that they go in there.

Marion put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I do not blame you,’ she said. ‘My Jester has…’ A long pause. ‘_Was_ always one to do things that were a little bit dangerous. It was why she got into so much trouble here.’

Fjord was not entirely reassured by Marion’s...well, lack of anger. Perhaps the fact that they were committed to the idea of bringing her back had worked in their favor. Even still, he watched from a distance as, hands shaking, tears in her eyes, Marion made her way upstairs. He wondered how much of her true feelings he had really seen.

The morning dwindled away, and by two o’clock, they had all meandered their way back to the ground floor of the Lavish Chateau.

Slowly, and lethargically, they got their things together, not that they’d really had too much of a chance to unpack. Marion seemed a little anxious at their departure, though Fjord supposed that was probably grief as much as it was anxiety. He strongly suspected that she had spent much of the day crying in her private chambers.

‘We’ll keep you informed as to our, uh...ongoing progress,’ Fjord told her. They would have to ensure that in lieu of Jester being with them, Caduceus prepared _Sending_ when he prayed to the Wildmother every morning. Fjord didn’t even want to think about having to keep some of Caduceus’s spiels to twenty-five words or less. Not that he overly minded when it came to learning more about his new patron, but now that Jester was...Now, things were going to be a little more time-sensitive.

Caleb drew out the Teleportation Circle on the wooden floor of the Chateau. He waited for everyone to get into position before adding the final line to the sigil.

Standing to the side, Fjord gave Marion a nod, before stepping through.

Hopefully, Zadash would give them some direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I could do this in two chapters. I guess not.


	3. Beau

3 – Beau

Beau walked down to the beach, satisfied that nobody was following her. She loved her friends dearly, but was not particularly in the mood to be sharing her grief with them right now.

It was weird.

Since the day they’d met, Beau had shared a room with Jester more often than not, and though the tiefling hadn’t known all of Beau’s secrets, there was an undeniable closeness there. Some nights they had stayed up well past a reasonable bedtime hour, talking about nothing in particular...the sort of relationship Beau imagined she would have had with a sister, if she’d ever had one.

The silence was deafening.

Beau had thought she was used to silence. She’d gotten the silent treatment often enough at home; her parents refusing to talk to her for days at a time, leaving Beau to get stuck inside her own head, locked alone in her bedroom. She’d even gotten it at the monastery, hours on end stuck in the library, where any noise was met with a frown, and a finger to the lips.

This silence was different.

It wasn’t just the absence of noise, it was the absence of joy, the absence of happiness, the absence of any thing positive. It was a silence that took hold of her, and strangled from within.

The beach wasn’t silent.

There was no-one else there, but the crashing of the waves, the calling of distant birds, the sound of her own rapid heartbeat, were all just enough to temper the void.

The last time she’d been here, the atmosphere had been completely different. They’d still been in mourning a little, after losing Mollymauk, but they’d all been together, working through their grief as a team. As a family. Now, the last thing Beau wanted was for the rest of her friends to see her. With Molly, she’d been sad, but more than anything, she’d been angry. Now, Beau barely had the energy for anger. She was snappy; biting the head off anyone that  made the mistake of trying to talk to her, but couldn’t quite manage the fury that had permeated her that morning on the Glory Run Road. Even sparring last night with Fjord and Yasha had been barely enough to pull her from her funk. Her mood was like a disc on a string.

Meditation didn’t help.

Every time she tried to clear her mind, sitting out on those rocks, she’d think of something that Jester had said, or done, and the pain would wash over her once more.  In the end, she instead practiced her forms on the wet sand, and followed it up with using a boulder for punching practice. It was with bloodied, bruised and possibly broken knuckles that she returned to the Lavish Chateau that afternoon, wincing as she reapplied her wrist wraps to provide some support. There, she ran into Caduceus, who didn’t even ask before he put a hand on her shoulder, and healed them. Even still, the blood remained.

The entire group was a little preoccupied as they gathered to  _Teleport_ to Zadash. There was a gap in the circle that no-one seemed to want to fill until Caduceus moved to grab Nott’s hand. It might have been comical, if Beau was in any mood to laugh. 

It was necessity more than anything else that forced her to confront the situation; the Zadash Cobalt Soul was still a little on edge from the attack; Beau looked over and saw a very tense, but very sad sort of look on Yasha’s face.

_At least this time they weren’t on horses,_ Beau thought. Then – another pang of pain – _at least this time no-one was casting any spells._

Even still, it took all of Beau’s credibility (very little), and Fjord’s charm (a decent amount more) to get the guards to stand down. Dairon was probably there, but Beau didn’t quite have the energy to talk, because it would mean telling someone else that Jester was dead, and they’d already done that once today, and were about to do it again.

So they left the reserve quickly, and made their way directly to the _Evening Nip_. Caleb excused himself to go buy paper and ink, and Nott went with him.

The Gentleman looked them over when they entered his chambers, a curious, but not yet understanding look on his face. ‘Usually Jester would ah..._Send_ me a message alerting me to your arrival,’ he said.

‘Jester’s dead,’ Beau said, before she could stop herself, and a sort of surprised, hurt look went around the group. Unlike Marion, Beau didn’t care enough about the Gentleman’s feelings to let him know gently, but she’d forgotten about her friends.

Even hearing the words was still too painful. The Gentleman, to his credit kept an impassive mask up, though Beau could tell his mind was whirring. It was still hard to tell whether or not he believed Jester to be his daughter, but he didn’t seem surprised that they had come to tell him, so that was probably a point in the “yes” column.

‘I see,’ he said, finally. ‘And how did she die, if I might ask? Is there a threat that we should be worried about?’

Fjord took over then, and told the story of them going to fight a red dragon to protect some town that she had already forgotten the name of. Or, she knew the name, but there were far too many other things going on in her head to remember right now.

‘And now we’re looking for diamond to bring her back,’ Beau added. ‘So if you have any leads about diamonds, or have any jobs we can take to earn some money, well, let us know.’

The Gentleman frowned. ‘Strange that the dragon horde was bereft of diamonds.’ Beau felt her stomach plummet down to somewhere near her feet, and judging by the look on his face, the same thing had happened to Fjord.

‘Yes,’ he said, in a monotone sort of voice that was nothing like his usual suave tone. ‘Yes, we were very disappointed. It would have been so much easier, if we’d been able to find diamonds there.’

The Gentleman told them he would think on it, and that he would call for them when he had something, leaving Fjord, Beau, Yasha and Caduceus to make their way to the  _Leaky Tap _ to book lodging for the evening.

‘Why the fuck didn’t we check the horde?’ Beau asked, the moment they’d set foot out into the streets of the Interstead Sprawl. 

They had done a cursory sweep through of the lair, looking for anything that seemed immediately valuable (though Beau suspected that Nott had taken a few more treasures without telling them), but had not stuck around to do a full inventory. The thought that there might have been  _diamonds_ in there was something so blindingly obvious that she should have realized it earlier.

Admittedly, Beau thought, their thoughts had been a little preoccupied, and, given that the lair was deep in the heart of a pretty fucking inaccessible mountain (that had taken them almost six days of rough trekking to get to), they reasoned that they could come back, once they’d dealt with the...with the Jester thing.

Caleb stared at the wall for nearly a full minute, after they told him  and Nott ,  about half an hour later . ‘ _Schei_ _ße,’_ he said, finally.

‘You can’t _Teleport_ there, can you?’ asked Beau. She knew the answer, but she needed Caleb to say it.

He shook his head. ‘ _Nein_ . But...’ He rummaged around in his pocket, and pulled out a large stone. It didn’t look like his Transmuter Stone. ‘I can contact Essek, and ask if he will take us.’ Beau raised an eyebrow. This was the first she’d heard that Essek had given Caleb a Sending Stone. Judging by the look on Fjord’s face, it was the first time he was hearing about it, too.

‘I’m sure we’ve had that conversation recently,’ Fjord said, lightly, ‘About _sharing_ pertinent information.’ Caleb simply stared at him, and for half a moment, Beau thought they might come to blows. Everyone was a little on edge lately. 

Caleb shook his head, and cast his gaze downward. ‘I forgot,’ he admitted. Beau bit back a comment about how Caleb never forgot anything. It _was_ true that they’d all been a little preoccupied. And it wasn’t as though a Sending Stone would have done that much for them.

‘Send him a message,’ Beau said, putting a hand on Fjord’s shoulder. ‘Maybe he can get us there without having to climb that fucking mountain again.’ Caleb, however, was looking at Fjord.

‘He may ask for another favor.’

‘I think we can take the risk,’ Fjord said, eventually. Beau was inclined to agree. The sooner they got this all squared away, the sooner they could work on getting the bulk of the diamonds from a more disreputable source, and deal with whatever it was the Essek wanted them to do.

Essek was surprisingly compliant, and there was a mutual agreement that it would be far safer – for Essek at least – for them to meet him in Rosohna, rather than him  _Teleport_ ing behind enemy lines. It meant that they wouldn’t be able to return to Zadash until the next day, because Caleb could not cast the  _Circle_ again.

In light of that, Beau made a suggestion that she knew would be unpopular. ‘I don’t think we should all go.’

They knew that the lair was empty, after all. And there were a few places in town that could be checked as well. If they split up, they would cover more ground, and have a better idea of where they stood.

To her surprised, there were no disagreements. She,  Nott and Caleb would go back to the dragon’s lair, and Fjord, Caduceus and Yasha would hit as many of the shops in Zadash that they could.

Beau bit back a swear. She hadn’t even considered the fact that she’d be going back to the place where Jester had died.

...

Beau tried not to look at the piles of ash that were scattered across the ground. The stupid thing was, she didn’t even know which one was Jester; the dragon had had a flair for bringing people up to its lair alive, before burning them to death. A wave of nausea rose in her stomach.

She didn’t want to be here.

But, if they didn’t at least look, then she knew she would never forgive herself.

They each took a section of the horde, digging through countless treasures, searching for loose gems, or bags of gems, or maybe even a conveniently sized enormous hunk of a gem that just so happened to be worth twenty-five thousand gold. The worth was exponential, Beau knew – the bigger diamonds were worth more because they were rarer, not just because of the size.

All told, they found another four and a half thousand gold worth of diamonds. Not nearly enough to complete the ritual, but not really anything to sneeze at, either.  Then they spent the night underneath Caleb’s dome, not inside the lair, but under the starry skies outside. They had agreed not to set a watch, in order that they could leave early the next morning, but Beau stayed awake anyway, staring up at the sky, and missing Jester.

...

‘Any luck with Pumat and the rest?’ Beau asked, when they returned to Zadash via _Teleportation _Circle the next day. Fjord, Yasha and Caduceus looked far more well-rested than either her, Caleb or Nott, having been able to spend the night in their beds, rather than on a rocky outcrop.

Fjord set a handful of small gems on the table, and pushed them towards Beau. She got out her tweezers and eyeglass.

‘Pumat said that most of the diamond stores are taken up by the Cerberus Assembly,’ Fjord told them. Beau raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. She looked over, knowing she would see a stone-faced look on Caleb. He had mentioned that there were a few pretty powerful wizard spells that needed diamonds.

‘If we knew when diamonds were getting taken to Cerberus, then maybe we could rob the transport,’ Fjord suggested, and was immediately shot down by Caleb, Nott and Beau.

‘Rob the Cerberus Assembly, are you _insane_?’ Nott screeched, before Beau could even say anything.

‘_Nein_, we are absolutely not doing that.’

‘Alright, alright, it was only a suggestion.’

Fjord put all the diamonds very carefully in the Bag of Holding. The haul from Pumat’s had been worth about a thousand, which again, was less than they’d hoped, but better than nothing. Beau took out her journal, and crossed out the first number. Underneath, she wrote “17350.” So they were making progress. The good news was, the one thing the dragon horde  _had_ had in abundance was gold; enough that if they had the suppliers, they could conceivably buy the diamonds. But if most of them were going to the Cerberus Assembly, and the rest were subject to an artificial demand, then they’d have to scour the continent to find even five thousand gold worth, let along seventeen thousand, three hundred and fifty.

‘Alright,’ Fjord said, with an almost patient sounding sigh. ‘Eighteen thousand gold worth of diamonds. Let’s…go rob a diamond mine?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Blooming_Dark_Flower for pointing out that they really could have found diamonds in a dragon horde. I hadn't even thought of that idea, but I think it worked out okay.
> 
> Now...this becomes a...Leverage AU, I guess?


	4. Nott

Four

Nott didn’t want to be impolite.

They were there, after all, to see Jester’s mother, to inform her of the news. It would be a little crass for Nott to ask if she could be excused to go talk to her husband and son. Especially given everything that had happened.

But then, after everything that had happened, Nott _needed_ to see them. Missing Jester was like...missing a part of herself. After Caleb, Jester had been the one she was closest to. Her friendship with Jester, though, was a bright, happy thing, complete with petty crime, and dick jokes, and explosive barrels. Without that…

Well, without that, they would be a pretty dour group. Nott tried not to think about it as she spent the morning with Luc and Yeza. Tried not to think about it as the blink dog – Nugget – ran around, clearly searching for Jester. In anticipation of fighting a red dragon, Jester had also entrusted the other thing (the weasel?), Sprinkle, to Luc. The weasel was a lot less concerned; whether or not it felt anything besides relief at not being forced to do dangerous things any more was a matter for interpretation. But Nugget...Nugget definitely knew, and the whole reunion was a little soured because of it. Nott took Yeza aside and told him, but she didn’t quite have the heart to tell Luc.

‘Oh,’ Yeza said, in that disappointed voice that he sometimes got. Though Nott was thrilled to see her family, the entire day was...subdued, and Nott hated that she felt the smallest amount of relief when they made to _Teleport _to Zadash. As long as they were _doing_ things, as long as they were working towards bringing Jester back, then she didn’t have to stop to think about it.

It was why Beau’s idea of robbing a diamond mine appealed to her so much. It was reckless, for sure, but this was the sort of situation where they needed to be reckless if they were going to do what they needed to do. Otherwise they could toil away for a year or more, and not get anywhere close to the number of diamonds that they needed.

‘I need to go buy paper and ink,’ Caleb said, automatically, the moment that they stepped out of the Cobalt Soul onto the streets of Zadash. He didn’t seem to notice the stony sort of look that Fjord gave him.

‘I’ll go with you,’ she said, automatically. Caleb was powerful, but he was also very weak, and if something attacked him...well, she didn’t want to lose him, too. They spent far too long at Pumat Sol’s, as Caleb counted his coins, and ummed and ahhed over how much paper to get. He got far less than he normally would have, and made initial inquiries as to purchasing a large number of diamonds.

‘I’m sorry to say I don’t have a lot,’ Pumat admitted, in that slow drawl of his. Caleb asked in that intriguingly persuasive way of his for them to be set aside. The fact that there were so few of them was worrying. Even if they did decide to buy instead of steal, the problem was less in finding the gold, and more in finding the diamonds. That, in Nott’s opinion, was reason enough to go straight to the other plan. She took a long swig from her flask.

‘The fucking horde,’ was the first thing that Fjord said, when they met up. It still sounded so _wrong_ to hear those words coming out of his mouth in _that_ accent.

‘What?’ Caleb said, blankly.

‘We didn’t check the fucking horde for diamonds,’ Fjord said. Nott felt a jolt in her stomach. She had even been _looking _through the piles of gold as they were getting ready to leave, grabbing pocketfuls of treasure without even really thinking about it. Surreptitiously, she felt through them, to see if there were any diamonds.

No such luck.

She, and Caleb, and Beau _T__eleport_ed back to Rosohna, and then Caleb sent for Essek. Beau and Nott stood back while Caleb...negotiated.

‘I am sorry if it seems like we are turning this into a habit,’ he said. ‘But as I mentioned when we last met, we are in need of a great number of diamonds, and I made the oversight of...forgetting to check the dragon horde.’

Nott was not so unobservant that she didn’t notice Caleb shifting the blame onto himself, and Essek was not so unobservant that _he_ didn’t notice. Still, Caleb gave a very accurate description of the dragon’s lair, and after a slight mishap that almost knocked Nott senseless, once again, they arrived in the lair of the red dragon.

Nott immediately felt sick. She had known she would, of course, but there was a difference between knowing it, and feeling it. She focused on the piles and piles of treasure, rather than the piles of ash. She pretended not to notice the choked sob that Beau gave, knowing that the monk would not take kindly to her grief being noticed.

They dug around the piles and piles of treasure for what felt like hours, occasionally coming across piles of gems, some of which included diamonds. It was a nice little stash, but not nearly enough to cast the spell that Caleb had found.

In addition to the diamonds, Nott found a couple of scroll cases that she kept to herself, not trusting that Beau wouldn’t admonish her for finding them when they were supposed to be looking for diamonds. She would give them to Caleb later. Even if there was nothing that could help her, then maybe there would be something that could help Jester.

They spent the night out on the cliffside, an uncharacteristic silence between them. While Nott and Caleb laid out their bedrolls, Beau sat just outside the dome, staring up at the sky. Nott thought it best not to disturb her; it would either lead to a beat-down, or a breakdown.

‘How are you holding up?’ Caleb asked, startling Nott.

‘_Me_?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t die, I’m fine.’ Definitely a lie. Or at the very least not entirely the truth. But then, they were probably all lying about being fine.

‘_Ja_, but you and Jester were quite…close,’ he finished. Nott had the vague impression that he had wanted to say something else. Caleb had kept things strangely close to the chest since they’d lost Jester. Even with her, when he was usually more...open, at the very least. He rubbed at the scars on his arms, and a sudden, horrible thought struck her.

‘Are you...’ she gulped. ‘Are you thinking about your parents?’

Caleb didn’t answer straight away, but Nott was startled to see that there were tears in his eyes. ‘_Ja_, I suppose I am a bit. I did not even realize that I was, at first, but then...’ he trailed off, staring almost wistfully into the distance. ‘Do you remember, after Molly died, and we discussed walking away?’ Nott didn’t need to think to remember.

‘And we decided that this was our family, and we needed to bring them back together because we love them?’

‘_Ja_, _ja_, that is the conversation I am thinking of.’ There was a pause. ‘There was not even a question...I have not even thought of running away this time. There is too much at stake.’

Nott didn’t bother to point out that the circumstances were different; that they weren’t going up against an unbeatable foe, racing against the clock to save their friends. Or maybe they were. After all, they were up against the unbeatable foe of diamond supply, and racing against the clock to bring Jester back.

‘You know, if we can manage to bring Jester back, then there is a chance...I would think that we may even be able to use the same spell to return you to your original body.’ He was watching Nott carefully, and Nott’s heart gave a tiny little jump.

She hadn’t even begun to consider that. Or...she had considered what had happened to her only in the context of what they could do to bring Jester back. The thought that the reverse might also be true…

It hardly seemed to matter. It was silly. For so long, that had been the only thing she had thought about; being able to become a halfling again, and returning to Yeza and Luc. That seemed almost unimportant in comparison to their quest of bringing Jester back. Six months ago, it wouldn’t have even been a question. She would have fucked over anyone and anything to have her old body back. Now...

‘That would mean finding even _more_ diamonds,’ Nott said, slowly. Then, she shook her head. Her hand went to her flask, and gripped it. ‘Let’s worry about bringing Jester back first,’ she said. ‘If there’s anything else left over...then we can worry about that.’

...

Beau, it transpired, had been granted quarters at the Cobalt Soul, something that they only bothered to tell her when they returned to Zadash for the second time. While there was only one bed, there was enough floor space that they could all set out their bedrolls, and it was a damn sight more private than the _Leaky Tap_. Not to mention nicer. Nott’s hand hovered over a shiny silver goblet sitting on the bedside table, and then, she thought better of it. It was one thing to steal from the Cobalt Soul (which she would readily do), but quite another to steal from Beau, given how far they’d all come.

Fjord spread their map out over the desk, which only had a single chair behind it. The rest of them stood, and in Nott’s case, climbed onto the edge of the chaise lounge so that she could see. ‘So,’ Fjord said. He was looking at Beau. ‘Where are the diamond mines?’

Beau stared back, startled, clearly not having expected the question. ‘I only know of a couple; one is….south-west of Rexxentrum, and the other is on the other side of the Cyrios Mountains.’

‘You only know about two?’ Nott said. She hadn’t meant it to sound so...well, accusatory, and yet Beau immediately put on a defensive front.

‘Hey, man, I stole _wine_. I never got around to stealing any diamonds.’ So she _had_ planned on it. Interesting. From the looks that transpired between the rest of the group, Nott was pretty sure they hadn’t known about the “wine stealing” thing.

There was a pause.

‘If we can talk to some jewelers, we might be able to get a bead on where they get their supplies from,’ Beau continued, very clearly avoiding the gaze of the rest of the group.

‘That seems like it would be your job,’ Fjord commented, looking at Beau. Beau, for her part, looked suddenly horrified at the idea.

‘Me? Why me?’

‘You are our diamond expert, after all.’

‘I mean...’ Beau hesitated slightly. ‘I, uh...let’s just say that there is a guy I know that could help us. But we—I may have to do some shady things to get in his good graces.’

‘Stuff that you’re not willing to do?’

Another hesitation. ‘No, I’m willing to do it,’ she said. ‘If it means helping Jester, then I’ll do whatever it takes.’

‘This shady friend of yours,’ Nott said. ‘Would he need a thief?’

Beau stared at Nott, and a moment of understanding passed between them.

_Whatever it _ _took_ _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I have been temporarily waylaid by nanowrimo and travel. I have not forgotten about this story. Next chapter, maybe Caleb.


	5. Caleb

5 – Caleb

Caleb woke early to read.

It was not an uncommon occurrence; even as a child, before he had ever even heard of the Soltryce Academy, he would strain his eyes against the glimmers of the early morning light, before being called outside to help with chores, like making bread, and picking vegetables.

Blumenthal was a distant memory in his mind, and yet it was a memory that would never go away, a memory that had been reignited, so to speak, on watching one of his closest friends burn to ash.

At first sight, he and Jester were as different as two people could possibly be; her coming from riches, him from poverty; her magic coming from a trickster God, and his from hours of study; her being a bright spark of warmth and happiness, and him being...well, him. When the veil was peeled back though, there were more similarities than met the eye. They both, after all, had grown up with loving mothers in happy homes, even if the specifics were vastly different. They had both been noticed by a powerful magical user and given access to new and amazing powers. For a while, Caleb had thought that story had ended much better for Jester than it had for him. Now...

Well, now he hoped he could do for her what he had thus far failed to do for his parents.

There was also, of course, the matter of Nott. If the spell could be used to bring someone back from death without a body, then why couldn’t it create a new body for someone else. There was much research to be done, on a matter that was well outside his area of expertise. It was frustrating. He needed an expert in divine matters; Caduceus was very wise, but the firbolg was also seemed very detached from the world at times. He was not the best person to ask about complex theoretical magic questions. Even Jester, had she been here, was not particularly well-versed in other acolytes of the Traveler.

Caleb bit back a swear. He should have asked Essek before they left Rosohna.

Perhaps the Gentleman would be able to help, when they saw him again. The previous night, before they had bedded down, one of his denizens – the half-elf, Kara – had sent Beauregard a message, asking that they attend the _Evening Nip_ the following morning.

Bleary eyed – Caleb was certain that none of them had slept particularly well – they made their way to the Gentleman’s secret hideout, their slumber party seemingly drawing the attention of some of the monks that lived at the Archive. Beau gave them all a defiant look, as though daring them to say something. Caleb was sure by now the tale had spread of their antics with the horses and the _Teleportation Circles_. Another pang of pain hit, as he recalled Jester casting a spell, and drawing the crossbow bolts of the guards.

It was all those little things that had been the most painful, in the first few months of the asylum; hearing another patient hum an old Zemnian folk song that his father used to sing, or being served a plate of meat, and potatoes, and green beans on wooden tray, like the beans and potatoes they had grown in their small garden.

Next to him, Beauregard was stirring. He found it strange that she had slept in her bedroll, given that there was a bed right there. Nobody had slept in the bed.

‘Why did you not sleep in the bed?’ he asked. Beauregard blinked.

‘I...’ she said, frowning. As though she didn’t know the answer. ‘Whenever I share a room, I’m sharing with Jester. It feels weird to sleep in a bed without her there as well.’ Perhaps they were all struggling with the little things.

They ate a quiet breakfast (with absolutely no pastries) and made their way over to the _Evening Nip_. The sun had barely risen, and the only people in the bar front was the tired looking dwarven bartender, Clive, cleaning down tables, and an old man asleep at the bar, empty stein in front of him.

Clive took them to the storage cupboard in the back, clearly having been warned of their arrival. They were led downstairs to the Gentleman’s office on the balcony level, where the crime boss was waiting for them.

Caleb could not tell whether or not he seemed distressed, but he did notice that both Caduceus and Beauregard were watching closely.

The Gentleman told them of a couple of jobs he had available, where he was willing to pay them in the equivalent value of diamonds, rather than gold. It was intriguing, to say the least, especially considering the fact that...well, they were very easy things that he wanted them to do. Firstly, take care of some creatures that were threatening smuggling routes (he had not called them smuggling routes, but the implication was obvious) and secondly, convincing a rival smuggler that he would really be better off doing his business somewhere on Tal’Dorei.

‘He is mollifying us,’ Caleb muttered, under his breath, half an hour later.

‘A thousand gold in diamonds is a thousand gold in diamonds,’ Nott said, shrugging. She, at least, was of the opinion that they do anything and everything to get those diamonds, regardless of the risk. Caleb’s main concern, aside from bringing Jester back, was accidentally drawing the eyes of anyone in Rexxentrum.

Working for the Gentleman did not seem likely to cause any untoward attention, but the other thing – robbing a diamond mine – that was going to turn some heads.

Whatever they did, they were going to have to be very, very careful. But, if it got them Jester back, then perhaps the risk would be worth it.

The Gentleman had also told them that he did not know of anyone with sufficient magical power to cast the spell in question, but that he would put his feelers out and ask around. Considering his feelers had a much longer reach than their own, this was no bad thing. As long as word didn’t spread too far north about who was looking for help.

It was a long day.

First, they (Yasha) convinced some budding crime lord that he would really be better off doing business somewhere else. That only took about ten minutes, but then the Crownsguard started getting suspicious about the large party of oddly dressed strangers that was going around intimidating people, and Fjord’s smoothing over of that situation took considerably longer.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they started the trek out to the place where a family of owlbears was ambushing caravans full of drugs. They did not take too much effort to dispatch, and the worst of the injuries came from both Beau and Yasha taking claws to the chest and face.

‘Perhaps now we’re down a cleric, we should look at being a little less reckless,’ Caduceus was saying, as he healed both of them. He wasn’t trying to be rude – just matter of fact – but even still, Beauregard almost looked like she was about to punch him.

‘Yeah,’ she said, finally. ‘Whatever, man.’

They returned to Zadash, collected their diamonds, and then spent twenty minutes arguing about whether or not it was worth it to set out to Deastock that afternoon.

On horseback, it was eight or so hours, if they went as fast as possible. Even still, it meant that they would be riding through the night. There was another comment from Fjord about recklessness, which happened to set both Beau and Nott off this time.

‘Why are you looking this way when you mention recklessness?’ Beau started, while Nott made a comment that was drowned out, but appeared to be very rude.

‘It has been a long day,’ Yasha said, the barbarian looking very perturbed to find herself playing the calm, sensible one. ‘Perhaps we should get a good night’s sleep, and leave very early in the morning.’

Caleb, for his part, had stayed rather silent through the whole discussion, which had in turn led to both Nott and Beau giving him a dirty look. They were decidedly not happy about being outvoted, and went to bed that evening under the high ceilings of the Cobalt Soul without a word to anyone else.

If Jester had been here, she would have been able to ease the tension somewhat. With her gone, things were building to a breaking point. He was fairly certain that Beauregard climbed out the window some time during the night, to go and relieve some of that tension. In any case, she was there in the morning, looking decidedly less grumpy, but more bruised.

Caleb pulled Nott aside before they left. There was alcohol on her breath, but he hated to admit that that was something that did not surprise him anymore.

‘I do not think you are reckless,’ he said, not entirely sure whether or not he believed it. She stared at him. ‘I am sorry that I did not come to your defense last night. The truth is, I am a little out of sorts.’ He pulled out the book, with the spell, and opened it to show her. ‘I know that we all very much want to have Jester back with us, and I do as well; so much that my heart is aching with it, but…you see, that there is a very long time that we have in which to cast the spell. All we need is a little patience.’

Whether or not his words convinced her, he could not tell. In any case, she, too, seemed a little less anxious as they made their way to Deastock at a face pace. The horses were not used to being pushed so hard, and about halfway there, a couple of them dug in their hooves, and refused to move until they’d had food and water, and a bit of a rest.

It was not a bad idea, Caleb thought, as he drank from his own waterskin. This, like his own research – regarding Dunamancy, and regarding Nott – was not something that could be accomplished in the space of days. Weeks, or perhaps even months was a greater likelihood. Weeks or months of the group being quick to anger, and slow to smile. Caleb had a great deal of experience with an all-consuming grief.

‘Your hometown is near here, isn’t it?’ Yasha was saying. Beauregard’s head lifted in surprise, as though she hadn’t expected – or hadn’t wanted to expect – the question.

‘Couple of hours north,’ she said, shrugging.

‘Do you want to visit?’ Fjord asked, hesitantly. There seemed to be something there, a brief meeting of eyes between the monk and the warlock.

‘No,’ Beauregard said. And that was that.

The time at which they’d left, and the speed with which they traveled meant that it was still light when they got to Deastock. It was a large town, though not quite as large as Zadash, and it looked…well, it looked rich.

‘You know,’ Nott said, under her breath, from her position in front of Caleb on their horse. ‘I’d bet a lot of those houses have a lot of diamonds in them.’

It was a fair point, but it was a line in the sand that not all of them were willing to cross. It was one thing to rob a diamond mine, potentially freeing individuals in subpar working conditions. It was quite another to steal into the night and relieve individuals of their valuables that may or may not have been legitimately earned.

‘At the very least, I think we’ll have to rob one house,’ Beauregard said, matter-of-factly. They were crowded into one of the two rooms that they had booked at the _Glistening Grasshopper_, one of the local inns. ‘Depending on what my guy says.’ She looked the group over. ‘No offence, but I think he’s gonna spook if all of us show up. I think it should be just me.’ She seemed to be expecting – perhaps even gearing for – an argument, and she was not disappointed. In the end, they decided that Yasha would accompany her, with Nott invisible in case anything happened. Caleb would watch through Frumpkin’s eyes at a reasonable distance.

They would not take any chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggle with Caleb's POV tbh, so I don't know if I've done him justice.
> 
> Next chapter, probably Yasha, though I should also throw in a Marion and a Jester chapter at one point.


	6. Yasha

6 – Yasha

Yasha sat very, very still as Caduceus pressed a hand to her shoulder. She felt the divine energy course through her, in a way that the Stormlord’s never did. ‘Thank-you,’ she said, and received a warm smile in return.

It was more of a thanks, at least, than what he got from Beauregard, who sort of grunted her appreciation, then went off to scout ahead with Nott.

Yasha thought it was interesting how much more time the two of them were spending together, as though they had some secret that the rest of them didn’t know about. Yasha supposed it was just another one of the ways in which they were all reacting differently to what had happened. Caleb, for his part, had withdrawn in on himself, reading more than he ever had before. Even as they rode towards Deastock the next morning, he had a book in his hand, and looked like he was seriously considering taking notes on horseback.  Nott kept having to reach back to steady him, and make sure that he didn’t fall off.

Caduceus was also very quiet, but instead of taking to books, he was spending more and more often Communing with the Wildmother. It didn’t seem to be bringing him the answers that he wanted, because every time he returned, he looked more and more frustrated. Not that it was easy to tell, with him. He seemed so calm all the time, to the point where Yasha often wondered if he was paying attention to half the stuff that seemed to be happening. Zuala had been a bit like that sometimes, her head off in the clouds, thinking about life outside the Iothia Moorlands, or whether or not animals had dreams, rather than whatever was happening right in front of her.

Fjord...Fjord was strange. He seemed very focused on the mission at hand, to the point where sometimes it felt like he had forgotten why they were doing it. That wasn’t true, of course, but Yasha couldn’t quite figure out where his head was actually at. It was all very frustrating.

Yasha herself had spent more time in the past  few days thinking about Zuala than she had in the last six months combined. It was silly, and perhaps a little unfair to Jester’s memory, but that thought of being responsible for someone’s death…of someone having died so that she could live.

Then, she remembered Mollymauk, and how  _he_ had died during the mission to rescue her. Her, and Fjord, and Jester. It seemed likely that Fjord might be thinking about that, too.

Like Caleb, Yasha’s grief was turning her in on herself. Unlike Caduceus, Yasha didn’t have anyone with which to Commune. Not that she hadn’t spoken to the Stormlord before. They talked a lot, in their own unique sort of way. But they were not traditional conversations; not the sort of conversations that could be considered good company.

Without Jester, it seemed like they were all a little lonely.

On reaching Deastock, they booked rooms at the  _Glistening Grasshopper_ , a name which, in any other circumstances, Yasha might have found amusing. Nobody was in a particularly good mood as they planned their next steps, all snapping at each other for the slightest transgressions. They were all very tired, and very lonely, and very sad, and as long as they were planning to bring Jester back, none of those things would go away.

It was something that Yasha had learned after Zuala’s death; the pain didn’t necessarily go away, but after a while, you started to heal. In order to heal, though, the wound needed to scab over, to stitch itself back up. If it stayed fresh; if the blood continued to pump, and ooze, and flow, then it would never heal. For as long as there was still hope, they would continue to snipe, and shout, and cry. 

In that sense, it was a little like being cursed. If you knew you were cursed...accepted that you were cursed, then you could deal with it, and just move on.

Moving on was not on any of their agendas. Not yet.

How could they move on, when Jester was the heart and the soul of the Mighty Nein. Without Jester, there _was_ no Mighty Nein. Without Jester, Yasha was sure the rest of them would be in very different places.

Very tired from the day’s events, Yasha found herself going to bed early. She had seen the distant rumblings of lightning on the horizon; if a storm was coming this way, then she wanted to be ready for anything that the Stormlord asked of her. He had been silent over the last few days; it was not uncommon for Yasha to go weeks at a time without hearing from him, but at the same time, she wondered if he was simply giving her the time and space she needed to complete her current mission.

Her sleep was fitful.

Her sleep had always been fitful, moreso perhaps after breaking free from Obann’s control. Some nights she woke in a cold sweat, having dreamed of the murders she had been forced to commit, and many more besides.

In the nights since Jester had died, there was a prominent addition to those figures, the latest person whose death had been her fault. The latest person who she had been unable to save.

When she woke, it was still very dark, and Yasha couldn’t help but gasp loudly at what she had seen.

She tried to push the images away, and tried to think of a suitable lie for anyone that might have been woken by the gasp.

No one came.

It was at that point she realized that the room was empty, which meant that Beau and Nott were...somewhere else.

Where exactly they could have gone in a town like this was anyone’s guess.  Perhaps they’d never even come to bed in the first place. Yasha stared out the window for several minutes before she heard the laughter from above. They were on the roof. She spent several seconds thinking about it, before climbing out the window and onto the balcony, and then climbing up the side of the building onto the roof proper.

‘It’s another fucking Owlbear!’ Nott cried, and Yasha was vaguely aware of a crossbow bolt passing so close to her ear that she heard the “whoosh” of it. ‘Oh, fuck, it’s stolen Yasha’s skin!’ The next bolt went very wide, because Beau, lounging lazily next to Nott, pushed the crossbow out of the way.

‘Calm the fuck down, Nott, you’ll wake the whole godsdamned inn.’ Beau took a very long swig from her wineskin. ‘Everything okay, Yasha?’

‘I...uh...you were not there, and I was...’ Yasha hesitated.

‘Aw, Yasha, were you worried about us?’ Beau asked. It was the happiest that she had sounded in days, and Yasha tried not to think about how much her words were slurred. ‘Ah, don’t mind us, we were just yelling at the Raven Queen for taking Jester away from us.’

‘Fuck you, Raven Queen!’ Nott cried out, eliciting an echoing cry from Beau as well. They were both very, very drunk, Yasha realized.

‘I don’t think the Raven Queen is who we should be talking to,’ Yasha said, unsure why she was even giving merit to the idea of yelling at the Raven Queen. It wasn’t as though harsh words would bring Jester back.

‘Oh, shit, you’re right!’ Nott said, loudly. ‘We should be asking the Traveler for help!’

‘Hey Traveler!’ Beau yelled. She was looking up at the sky. Yasha was almost certain she could see tears in the monk’s eyes. ‘Do you want to maybe give us a sign that we’re on the right track? That maybe Jester’s doing okay?’

There was a long pause, and Yasha couldn’t tell that anything had happened. Then she heard, ‘Holy shit, do you see that?’ from Nott.

‘See what?’

‘There’s a fucking dick in the sky.’

‘What? Fucking where?’

‘There – up between the big moon and the little moon.’

‘That’s the fucking Wizard’s Tower, it’s there all the fucking time.’

‘Yeah, well what do you know about…about stars?’

‘I spent five years locked in a fucking library!’

Yasha was barely aware of the argument, paying just enough attention that she knew there wasn’t much heat to it, and, more to the point, Beau and Nott probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Probably a good thing. 

‘Come sit down, Yash,’ Beau said. She stood, apparently to drag Yasha over, and immediately tripped over her own boots. Nott laughed uproariously as Yasha helped Beau to her feet.

‘I think you really killed your whole family on that,’ Yasha said, off-hand. Nott immediately looked horrified. Beau immediately looked confused.

‘I mean, not that I don’t want to, but why the fuck would I kill my whole family?’ Beau asked, frowning.

‘Nott, ah...told me that it was a figure of speech. For when you...do something you weren’t supposed to do.’ She looked at them both. Oh. Perhaps she was the one that had killed her family on this.

Beau seemed to be thinking. She looked from Nott to Yasha, suddenly looking very sober. ‘Nott,’ she growled. ‘What the fuck did you tell her?’

‘Aaaah! It was an accident,’ Nott said, hurriedly. ‘I was in withdrawal!’

‘It wasn’t your secret to tell,’ Beau grumbled. She took another swig from her wineskin.

‘Oh, like you’ve never spilled a secret.’

‘Yeah? Okay, then, tell me five things you know about me.’

The conversation sort of deteriorated after that, not that it had been particularly high-brow in the first place, but it at least had Beau and Nott almost smiling, which was something Yasha was sure that they both needed (“Beau I am one thousand percent sure that you told me you could play the bagpipes, maybe you just forgot about it”).

‘Alright,’ Beau said, standing, when she had clearly had enough of this. Not that she sounded frustrated. Just like she had somewhere else that she needed to be. ‘You two have fun, I’ma go see if a really flexible half-elf I once knew still lives around here. Don’t wait up.’ Yasha had almost forgotten that Beau had grown up not far from here.

Beau didn’t wait for either of them to say anything, didn’t even bother going back down through the balcony, but simply jumped off the roof, and from the sounds of it (“ow, FUCK!”) landed very heavily.

Nott seemed a little dejected at the loss of her drinking buddy, and went to take another swig from her flask but stopped. ‘I don’t know why I feel guilty,’ she said, her words slurred. ‘It’s not like Jester’s here to get disappointed at me for drinking.’

‘You don’t think she’s...ah...watching from above?’

Nott seemed to consider the point. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never really...well, I mean I know it exists, of course, but all the gods sort of stuff just seems so much bigger than little old me.’

Yasha hesitated. She believed in the Stormlord, of course. It was hard not to, when he kept on giving her quests to complete, obstacles to overcome. Whether or not she thought he would be waiting for her when she finally drew her last breath, well that was another matter entirely. ‘Do you remember much…from the times that you died?’

Nott took a swig from the flask. ‘No,’ she said.

Yasha couldn’t tell whether or not she was lying.


	7. Caduceus

7 – Caduceus

Breakfast at the  _Glistening Grasshopper _ was once again, a grim affair. Both Beau and Nott were looking a little worse for wear, and Caduceus took pity on them and cast  _Lesser Restoration_ . At another time, he might have been less inclined to do so, but the grief was near enough that their intoxication was understandable.

‘So.’ Fjord was saying. ‘What time are we meeting your friend?’ Beau blinked, clearly still a little hazy. When she spoke, it was as though she was getting over a bad cold.

‘His shop is open from nine, but he usually has his, uh...legitimate customers come through in the morning. I think if we go around noon, we might be okay.’

‘You think we should send him a message?’

‘Nah.’ Beau shook her head. ‘We do that, he’ll spook. I’m gonna rock up, and have Yasha clothesline him if he tries to leave.’

‘I’m sure he could get out the back,’ Caduceus said, placidly. Beau have him a frowny sort of look. Oh. She’d been joking. It was hard to tell with her sometimes. She could be very confusing.

Satisfied that his presence would not be required for at least another few hours, Caduceus retreated back upstairs to cast  _Commune_ . He had been checking in with the Wildmother on a daily basis, confirming that they were still on the right path. The answers he generally received were frustratingly vague, but even moreso lately.

As he pushed his chair in, Fjord put a hand to his elbow. ‘Do you think I could join you?’ the half-orc asked, in a soft voice. He didn’t want the rest of the group to hear, or at the very least didn’t want to draw attention to what he was doing.

It wasn’t the first time Fjord had joined him for something like this. The other man was still slowly navigating the waters of his own faith, trying to figure out what worked and what didn’t, seeking approval and guidance in his own way. Caduceus was always happy to provide guidance where needed, but was also very much aware that Fjord would need to find his own path.

Upstairs, in their room, Caduceus made tea. It was a light, fruity flavor, with an earthy hint of jasmine. An old elf had been buried beneath it, long ago that the carvings on the headstone had eroded away with wind, and rain, and time.

Time was the great killer of all things.

Time had taken the Blooming Grove from a wild, vibrant place of life, and...well, death, to a place of just death. Its sickness had spread, and would keep on spreading,  the way it was spreading through him.

That was a problem for another time, though; all of Caduceus’s questions today were related to their quest to bring Jester back to them.

In addition to the tea, he burned  sticks of s age and  sandalwood , taking in the comforting scent. Fjord sneezed.

‘Sorry,’ he said, looking a little embarrassed. ‘Allergies.’

‘That’s quite alright,’ Caduceus told him, serenely. If the incense hadn’t been necessary for the ritual, he would have extinguished it. Instead, he splashed holy water over both himself, and Fjord, and began murmuring the sacred words that would call the Wildmother to him. His hands traced the complicated sigil in the air.

After a minute or so, a warmth filled the room. It was not something that could be seen, or detected by any means, magical or otherwise. It was just that overwhelming feeling that they were in the presence of something much greater than themselves.

Fjord sighed, but it was a sigh of relief, and contentedness. For one brief moment, their grief was put to the side.  Not forgotten – never forgotten – but dulled slightly, but the radiance of the Wildmother.

There were three questions that Caduceus could ask, when he spoke with his goddess. Of late, he had asked the same three questions, time and again.

‘Are we on the right path?’

The warmth swelled inside of him, not as any sort of verbal answer, but an overwhelmingly positive feeling. The Wildmother, somehow, approved of their plan. Not, he knew, because it involved lying, and stealing, and cheating, but because their actions would have a ripple effect. If Beau was right, and the diamond mines were run by bad people, then there was a chance that they could do some real good.

The second question:

‘Are our friends coping?’

It was a little more of a vague question. After all, there were different ways of coping, not all of which were necessarily safe ways, but the Wildmother’s answer to this question had always been one of mild uncertainty. People were strange, complicated things. It was one thing to gauge what they were thinking, or how they were feeling, but quite another to truly understand them.

As with the last time, the answer was a little unclear. Not necessarily negative, but not enough to assure him that there was no-one that needed his immediate help. Perhaps it was high time to share another meal, to air feelings and grievances.

The last question. Well, the last question, he could not do anything regardless of what the answer was, but he still liked to know it.

‘Is Jester doing okay?’

Fjord straightened suddenly at the question, eyes wide as he waited for the response. As with the previous one, the answer had never been particularly clear, and this time was no different. He supposed that it was difficult to be okay when you were dead. Her soul, at least, seemed to be in no immediate peril.

Caduceus relayed these answers to Fjord, who was, as expected, pleased with the first answer, and somewhat disheartened by the last two.

‘I think we do need to start...well, keeping a bit more of an eye on each other,’ he said, sounding a little guilty. They had all been so insular in recent days, that keeping an eye on each other had been difficult. Not to mention the fact that some (most) of them seemed to outright resent anyone trying to keep an eye out.

As if to combat this, Fjord agreed that he would  accompany Beau, and Nott, and Yasha to meet with the contact. Beau would probably be a little upset, but she would get over it.

‘You can still do the talking,’ Fjord said, when, predictably, Beau grumbled at the thought of having extra back-up. ‘This is just to make sure you stay safe.’

She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice.

…

Caduceus was, for once in his life, finding himself useless.

Actually, no, that wasn’t true. He was providing a very stable pillar for which Caleb could rest his hand as he looked through the eyes of his cat.

Or rather not a cat. Caleb had spent an hour burning herbs, and incense, and charcoal, finishing with the muttering of arcane words. The cat (which was not a cat) had reappeared as a  snake that was now  wrapped around  Yasha’s shoulder s . Beau had confirmed that the man they were meeting would absolutely be suspicious of a random cat skulking around, but probably less so of a weird pet sitting on a scary hot barbarian’s shoulder. At least, those had been her words. Caduceus wasn’t quite sure what she meant, but was happy to provide the support to Caleb anyway.

If nothing else, he would make sure that the rest of them got through this alive.

Caleb kept up a running commentary as they waited. ‘He is a little surprised to see her. A little wary, too, at the two large companions she has brought with her.’

‘And the snake,’ Caduceus said, forgetting that Caleb could neither see nor hear him.

The meeting took a little over half an hour, and when they were finished, everyone regrouped at the  _Glistening Grasshopper_ . Caduceus managed to sweet-talk the chef into letting him borrow the kitchen for a little while, and brought up a feast of flat breads, and dips and roasted vegetables to their war council. He knew they all ate meat, and would probably take a great deal of comfort from eating it, but in all honesty, he didn’t have any experience cooking meat, and was sure he would ruin it.

‘So,’ Fjord was telling them. Beau seemed rather happy that he had taken over the burden of social interaction; having to negotiate with a former contact seemed to have drained her. ‘Our good friend Mister Markel was able to sell us some diamonds – at an exorbitant mark-up, mind you – and also agreed to divulge the location of one of his sources that he believes would be, ah...less well guarded than some others.’

‘What’s the catch?’ Caduceus asked, knowing the conversation was mostly for his benefit. The rest of them had been there in one way or another.

‘It’s not as bad as I was expecting,’ Beau admitted. ‘He wants a cut of the diamonds.’ She hesitated. ‘Plus, I’m pretty sure he may have a vested business interest in putting this particular mine out of business.’

‘Do you know this man well, Beauregard?’ Caleb asked. ‘Can we trust him?’

Beau laughed,  and it was a bitter, sad laugh . ‘I wouldn’t trust him has far as I could throw him,’ she said. ‘We pulled like...one job back in the day, and I got send off to the Cobalt Soul before we could do anything more. As far as crooks go, he’s not the worst, but he almost definitely has an ulterior motive.’

There was a pause.  There were a lot of people around with ulterior motives. Caduceus was sure id he’d been there, he might have been able to get a bit of insight, but the plan hadn’t worked out that way. Not that he didn’t trust the judgment of his friends. He was just a little more comfortable with his own judgment.

‘–have to see what happens.’ Caduceus started, realizing that he had missed a good few minutes of the conversation. Thankfully, no-one seemed to have noticed. 

‘So where is this mine?’ Caduceus asked. Beau gave him a strange look.

‘Like I _just_ said, he’s getting a map ready to give to us tomorrow morning.’ Her voice sounded a little bit snappy. It occurred to Caduceus suddenly that she didn’t particularly want to be here. That this was close enough to her hometown, and had enough people she knew so as to cause some bitter memories to pop up.

Well, if luck was on their side, they would be out of there the next day. Well, no. It wasn’t really luck, after all, was it? Luck implied that there was no plan for the way things were happening, that whether or not they happened was down to chance, rather than destiny. The Wildmother had told him that they were on the right path, so whenever they left, it would be the right time.

There was that time thing again.

Always getting in their way. For as dangerous as their lives were, the Wildmother seemed to agree that it hadn’t been Jester’s time to die. That thread of fate had been cut short by their own careless actions. 

It was time for them to put it back together again.


	8. Interlude: Jester

Interlude – Jester

The Lavish Chateau was not as she remembered it.

Or it was sort of as she remembered it, but some things were very different.

For one thing, there was no-one else there. The Chateau had always been bustling with life, even if Jester had rarely been allowed out to see it. She’d been able to hear the cries of laughter, and the raucous applause, the footsteps of people wandering past her room. Never any of the other noises she would have expected to hear in a place where people did that sort of thing.

She went into her Momma’s room, and ran her hand along the fancy, wooden dresser. All the jewelry was still in there, but there was nobody around to wear it. Jester opened the bottom drawer, and found the hidden box that was there. Momma had never let her see what was inside. 

Nothing.

Whatever this place was, it was based on her memory, so she could probably only see the things that she already knew about. She ran through the halls, and found the rooms she’d never been into. There were surprisingly few of them; growing up here, and having to hide from all the patrons meant she knew most of the Chateau like the back of her hand.

Bluud’s bedroom, she remembered. She had never been in Bluud’s bedroom.

She found the wooden door that wasn’t far from the kitchens; she’d tried to sneak in and wake him up so many times, but every time she did, he was always ready, and waiting. ‘Not this time, Little Sapphire,’ he would say.

Things were the same as they were the last time she had been here, which had been...she couldn’t remember exactly when, but it was probably the last time that they’d been in Nicodranas. That was weeks ago.

Shit.

She should really visit her Momma more.

The first thing she would do, after they brought her back was go and visit her Momma.

Jester went back to her room. The Traveler was still in there, sitting on the edge of her bed, his hands palm down on his thighs.

‘It’s so quiet in here,’ she told him. ‘It’s like...it’s home, but not really, you know?’

‘I could put some people in,’ the Traveler said, thoughtfully. ‘Of course, they won’t be like real people. Just a mere glimmer, since their souls are still...shall we say alive.’

A sudden thought struck Jester. ‘Does that mean that you can bring me people that are dead?’ she asked, suddenly excited. ‘Oh my god, could you bring me Molly?’ Her entire body thrummed with the possibility that she might see the other tiefling again. The Traveler gave a sad sort of smile, and the hope faded.

‘It doesn’t work like that, unfortunately. You haven’t quite...passed through the gates yet, so to speak. Your friend is with the Moonweaver, and...well, it’s a little interesting when it comes to my interactions with the other gods. If things don’t quite work out, then I’m sure you’ll be able to see him in the Gates of the Moon.’

‘Oh,’ Jester said. The thought made her a little sad, but then...well, if she was going to die – like _die_ die – then maybe it’d be okay. She’d be able to see Molly. There was something a little bit off, though, in the Traveler’s words. He’d never outright lied to her, as far as she knew, but...well, he _was_ a Trickster god. 

‘There’s something you’re not telling me,’ she said. It wasn’t a question.

‘I’m…’ There was a pause. The Traveler seemed to hesitate. Jester had never seen him hesitate before in the entire time that he’d known her. ‘I’m not a god,’ he said, finally. The look on his face – at least, the part of his face that she could see – was one of...vulnerability. That was nothing, though, compared to what he had just said.

‘Wait, _what?_’ All those times that people had told her that she was part of a cult...had they been _right_? Was he just a creepy dude in a cloak? That couldn’t be right; he’d given her her magic, after all. Was he like _Uk’otoa_? 

‘Well, not yet, anyway,’ he continued. ‘Our, ah...Traveler Con, as you called it...that was supposed to be my ascension; gaining enough power to be able to...well, become a god. But since you died before then...’

Jester frowned  (that definitely kind of sounded like Uk’otoa).

She knew there were all sorts of things and rules and whatever about where people went when they died. That people usually ended up in the plane of their gods. But if she was dead, and the Traveler wasn’t a god…

‘So where will I go?’ she asked. ‘If, you know...they fail at getting a shittload of diamonds and I’m dead forever and my soul has to move on. If you’re not a god, then...’ For the first time since she died, Jester felt afraid. The Traveler had been her guide, her teacher for so long. To find that there was something that he didn’t know, that he didn’t have any control over… ‘Where will I go?’ she repeated, in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

The Traveler did something that Jester was definitely sure she’d never seen him do before. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh,’ said Jester. ‘Shit.’


	9. Fjord

9 – Fjord

From Deastock, they traveled north-west towards the mountains. Beau was tense the entire time they were in sight of Kamordah, and for her sake they avoided going into the town proper. Even still, Fjord could see the vineyards stretching across the green hills, rows upon rows of dark vines.

It was a nice part of the world, but Fjord would have preferred visiting it under different circumstances.

They stopped for the night at the edge of the Cyrios mountains, their backs against the metamorphic rock of a sheer cliff face.

‘I used to come here sometimes, and climb these cliffs,’ Beau said, in a soft sort of voice, that made Fjord raise an eyebrow. They were far enough from Kamordah that it was not a quick journey. Nor did he get the impression that it had been a journey that her parents were aware of.

Her contact had told them of a diamond mine that he thought would be suitable for their endeavor, small enough that it wasn’t receiving as much Empire attention as it could have, but also large enough that it would likely have the diamonds that they needed. The number was at a little more than fifteen thousand now. He felt like they’d done remarkably well, considering the reasons they were doing it.

Fjord didn’t like to admit – even to himself – but things were getting harder. Every day without Jester was a day without that near unassailable positive energy, a day without the first true friend he’d ever made outside of the orphanage. His life was, without a doubt, worse without her in it. The fact that the Wildmother didn’t seem particularly clear on whether or not she was okay definitely didn’t assuage his fears.

Just as concerning was the possibility that the rest of the group might not be okay either.

It was understandable, really. Jester was one of those people who was very difficult not to love, and Fjord was fairly sure that they had all been close with her. 

Without Jester, it felt like they were scrambling around in the dark.

For three days, Nott and Caleb watched over the encampment, with occasional help from Caleb’s  _Invisibility _ spell, but mainly relying on their own stealthiness. They returned with exhaustive notes on the comings and goings, and the security of the whole set-up.

Meanwhile, the rest of them were working on the broad strokes of the plan; the details would be filled in once the reconnaissance party returned.

On the fourth day, they prepared.

‘I hate this,’ Beau muttered. ‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.’

‘Technically, you talked _us_ into it,’ Fjord said, feeling a slight pang of...something when he said the word “technically.”

‘Yeah, the bit about robbing a diamond mine, not the bit about dressing me up like a moron.’ They traded snipes back and forth for a few minutes, but Fjord could tell that Beau’s heart wasn’t really in it. She had bags under her eyes, and a withdrawn sort of look.

‘It’s nothing,’ she’d said, when he pressed her on it.

‘Beau...’

‘Look,’ she said, sighing. ‘I always roomed with Jester. I got used to…got used to her. So having her not be here means that I can’t sleep. I just sort of...lie awake, staring at the ceiling.’ Fjord didn’t want to point out that they’d been sleeping under the Dome for the past few days. He was sure there was a little more to it, but he couldn’t figure out what, and Beau certainly wasn’t sharing.

Their tentative plan was for Caleb and Fjord to go in as nobles looking to purchase a large quantity of diamonds. Beau would be acting as their bodyguard, and had to both act and dress the part. Beau made it very clear that she would have preferred something a little less front of house, but since she was their diamond expert…

‘I wouldn’t say expert,’ Beau grumbled. ‘But I mean...we’re more than likely going to be looking at chunks of raw diamond, so I won’t know the value properly until they’ve been cut.’

‘Can you cut them?’

There was a pause. ‘Yeah.’

Finally, there was a bridge too far. ‘Exactly  _how_ do you know so much about this sort of thing? This is far more than you would ever need to know if you wanted to steal diamonds.’

For a moment, it looked like Beau was about to disagree, then she shrugged. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

Fjord looked around. Caleb and Nott were collecting supplies from Kamordah, and Yasha and Caduceus were off making Yasha look more filthy. There was no-one around for miles to even hear them.

‘Of course,’ Fjord said. He wasn’t sure if there was anyone that he would even tell. He hadn’t, after all, told anyone about Beau’s brother.

‘When I was a kid, my parents were really insistent on me being ladylike; wearing dresses, and being all polite, and shit like that,’ she said, which was absolutely not the answer that Fjord had expected. ‘I had a choice between making jewelry, and doing cross-stitch. I’m starting to think I made the right choice.’ Fjord tried to imagine Beau in a frilly pink dress doing cross-stitch, and failed utterly. Or the image was there, but the sleeves had been torn off the dress, and the cross-stitch was done using a shuriken, rather than a needle.

‘And they taught you how to...cut raw diamonds?’ Fjord raised a skeptical eyebrow.

‘You know me, I’m a thorough student.’ Beau shrugged. ‘Rich people, man, they like to learn about the weirdest shit.’ Like always with Beau, Fjord suspected that there was more to the story, but she wasn’t sharing.

That night, they shared dinner over a fire that was more embers than flames. They were far enough from the mine encampment that it shouldn’t have been an issue, but none of them were inclined to take too many chances. The mission they’d set themselves up for was enough of a chance itself.

Of all of them, Yasha was probably the quietest, and for good reason. In the morning, Fjord would be disguising himself as one of the slavers that Caleb and Nott had seen bringing in new workers, and taking her to the camp. It was far more of a risk than Fjord wanted to take, but Yasha had insisted on it. The hours that Caduceus had spent helping muddy her clothes and make them look like they belonged to a runaway vagrant would not go to waste.

Caleb and Fjord took first watch. They agreed to wake Nott and Caduceus for second watch at midnight, leaving Beau and Yasha for last watch.

‘So, let’s have it,’ Fjord said, as soon as he and Caleb were the only ones left awake.

‘I’m sorry?’ Caleb did a very good job of sounding confused.

‘You take watch with Nott more often than not,’ Fjord said, wincing slightly at the pun. Caleb either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Probably the latter. ‘So why are you suddenly so eager to talk to me?’

There was a pause. ‘That is very insightful.’

‘Why do you sound so surprised?’

Caleb looked momentarily taken-aback, before he realized that Fjord was joking. Somehow, though they joked around with other people, but not as much with each other.

‘When this starts,’ Caleb said, ‘We will be in the thick of it.’

‘Yes,’ Fjord said. ‘We will.’ It wasn’t the most dangerous situation that they’d ever been in, but it probably had the most capacity for failure. After all, it wasn’t copper pieces that they were looking to steal. Without Jester...without one of their anchor points, they were altogether weaker. ‘Not just us, though.’ Beau and Yasha would also be in the thick of it, and, though Fjord would never admit it to either of them, they didn’t quite have the charisma to back up their positions. Nott and Caduceus, by contrast, were hanging well back.

‘_Ja, _of course,’ Caleb said, as though he had forgotten. He clearly hadn’t forgotten, though. He didn’t forget things like that. ‘What I mean, though, is that we are in the best position to affect the direction of how this goes. If you see it heading south...’

‘You think I’m not prepared to do what needs to be done?’

‘I don’t know. Are you?’

Fjord felt a bit like he was stuck in a game of chicken, only he wasn’t entirely sure when the collision was going to happen.

‘I know the others – Beauregard and Caduceus especially – would be looking to free the other workers from the mine,’ Caleb continued. ‘But if it is a choice between getting those diamonds, and freeing the workers...’ He hesitated slightly. ‘We can always come back to free them another time. Jester’s soul will not wait around forever.’

Fjord knew what Jester would have said. Or at least, he wanted to think that he knew. That she would have been happy to let her soul wait a little bit longer if it meant saving some people that were isolated or imprisoned away from the world.

That said, he could not help agree with Caleb. Could not help but see this as a selfish sort of endeavor. Once they had brought Jester back, they could easily come back here – _would_ – come back here and do what needed to be done.

‘Yes,’ Fjord said. ‘I’m willing to make that concession.’ Caleb stuck out a hand for him to shake. Strangely, the thing that made him feel the worst about this was the fact that they were making the decision without consulting the rest of the group. At least this time no-one was making a blood pact.

The rest of their watch passed by, uneventful. They had said everything that they needed to say. They had done everything they needed to do.

All that was left now was…

All that was left now was to go and pull a heist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I struggled so much with this chapter, but I did. A little shorter, but them's the breaks. While I haven't written this with any specific ships in mind, I do think the top table are all a little bit in love with Jester, which is informing a lot of their decision making.


	10. Beau

10 – Beau

Beau was more than a little pissed.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly the truth. Well it was, but it wasn’t the whole truth. She was a little bit pissed, and a little bit tired, and a little bit sad, and, if she was honest, maybe a little bit drunk. She had taken a few swigs from Nott’s flask while the goblin slept, and now a nice buzz had spread through her.

It did hardly anything to numb the grief that was still settling through her.

Beau wasn’t sure where she’d heard the old adage, about there being five stages of grief; it was probably something that she’d read in the library at one point. You started off in denial, and then moved through anger, then bargaining, then depression, and finally, acceptance. At least that was what the book had said.

Personally, Beau felt it was kind of bullshit.

For one thing, she was kind of angry all the time. Jester being dead only made it worse. The fact that they were trying to bring her back probably meant that they were stuck on “bargaining,” and would be for some time.

What it really meant, that until they either succeeded or failed, then they would sort of just continue to be sad, with no outlet or end in sight.

She’d shared last watch with Yasha, and it was bereft of any of the weird sort of awkward flirting that had, once upon a time, been rampant. Beau was far too distracted by what they were going to have to do in the days ahead to say anything that she would regret later.

Not that their watch was silent. Beau managed to do the thing she always did, and say something stupid without meaning to. ‘You still feel guilty?’  Meaning, of course, “you have no reason to feel guilty,” but not quite managing to say it.

Yasha did not answer straight away. She wore her guilt like a cloak of invisibility. It consumed her, and yet she did not want anyone to see it.

‘For so long,’ Yasha said, finally. ‘I do not think I have felt anything other than guilt. Perhaps rage, but...even that is borne of...other emotions.’ Beau knew then, that Yasha was thinking about Zuala.

‘Well, we’re gonna get Jester back, and then we’ll all go back to feeling the way we’re supposed to feel,’ Beau said, talking to herself as much as she was talking to Yasha.

‘You think...you think this will all work?’ Yasha asked, hesitantly, as though she had her doubts.

‘It has to,’ Beau said, immediately. ‘’cos...Because I don’t fucking know what I’m gonna do if it doesn’t.’

…

The next day, they finished preparing.

Beau was not particularly pleased about this, least of all because her disguise was probably more drastic than the rest of them put together.

‘If you go in with hair like that, and your abs showing, your cover will be blown very quickly,’ Caleb had pointed out. Which was why they’d given her the haircut, and the tailored suit, and the sword. After she’d bound her chest (“remember to let that out at night, or you’ll have trouble breathing,”), she looked very much the part of a young man from a well-off family. Ironic, really, given that that was all her parents had ever wanted.

‘I don’t see why I’m the one that gets the shitty disguise,’ she grumbled. It wasn’t even the “dressing up as a dude” part that bothered her; it was the “dressing up as a dude who carried a rapier, and looked like he knew how to use all the silverware at the dinner table.”

‘That’s good,’ Caduceus said, pleasantly. ‘That’s a nice, low voice.’ Beau shot him a look, and he continued to smile placidly.

‘You’re my assistant,’ Fjord reminded her. ‘And remember, we _want_ you to have the shitty disguise. If they find out that secret then they won’t start looking for the other secrets. Misdirection, remember?’

Beau gave a roll of the eyes that said she very much did remember their conversations. It was more than a little irksome. Fjord might have been more charismatic than she was when it came to convincing people of things, but she was much better at lying than she was at telling the truth. As long as she was pretending to be someone else, it was fine.

‘At least we aren’t selling you into slavery,’ Nott said, jovially, giving a look towards an impassive Yasha. Yasha had not complained about the decision – on the contrary, she had volunteered to be the one for that particular role – but it did not mean she was looking forward to it.

Beau didn’t envy Yasha.

She  _was_ glad it wasn’t her going undercover as a slave, which was why she hadn’t volunteered to do it in the first place. There was a swell in her throat as they said their farewells to Yasha, hoping that it wouldn’t be the last time.

‘Good luck,’ Beau just about managed to eke out. She was trying not to think about what happened the last time they’d left Yasha behind.

It was an anxious sort of day. Nott had stayed behind to keep an eye on Yasha, invisible, in case anything went wrong. They had argued back and forth considerably on this point, and Beau hated the argument she’d made; it would look suspicious if they went in on the same day, and the last thing they wanted to do was for the mine overseer to think that anything weird was going on.

Beau took a few swigs of booze from her own stash; a bottle of whiskey that she’d picked up in one town or another. Not cheap, but way nicer than the swill that Nott drank.

‘You alright?’ Fjord asked, when they readied themselves to leave the next morning. Beau was absolutely fucking not alright, and she hated it. She felt like she’d built up sort of a reputation as the person that_ was_ alright in these sort of situations, so to be in any other state was...not ideal.

‘Yeah,’ Beau said, running a hand through her hair. ‘Just...you know...miss Jester.’ It wasn’t the whole truth, of course. It hardly seemed the time for the whole truth; Nott was the only one that knew it, but she hadn’t brought it up since the Conversation (a conversation that Beau was honestly kind of regretting having at this point).

Beau half expected Fjord to put a hand on her shoulder, to tell her to buck up, and that everything would be okay. Instead, his face fell. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Me too.’ Beau got the sense that there was more there he wasn’t saying.

They took a horse each, reasoning that they would look more respectable than if they arrived sharing a horse. Caduceus had spent the better part of the previous day grooming the horses,  and making sure they looked like there were worth much more than they had actually paid for them.

They rode up to the very large, very expensive looking house on the outskirts of the mine, in what Beau hoped was a suitably pompous manner.

A tall, elven man with golden hair was waiting for them, stepping forward as they dismounted. The overseer, Beau assumed. Dmitri Traven. Nott and Caleb had noted him as the man in charge; the one that lived in the fancy house, and made all the decisions about the goings on of the mine.

‘Mister Traven.’ Fjord held out a hand for the elf to shake. ‘A pleasure to meet you. I take you received the correspondence that my ah...manservant Cesario here sent to you.’

Beau didn’t bother to suppress the roll of her eyes. That was her character, she decided. A person that was very sick of Fjord’s shenanigans.  Not entirely untrue.

_Make sure you keep him distracted_ , came a voice in her head.  _I’m going to scope out _ _the house _ _and see if I can find any diamonds. Don’t reply to this message._

Beau said nothing. She was already certain that Nott would not find any diamonds just hanging around. There would be a safe, or a stronghold of some kind, that would be very well guarded, waiting for the diamonds to be shipped out to an auction house, or to the Cerberus Assembly or any one of those places that needed diamonds right now. If only they’d had Jester, they could have just  _Dimension Door_ ed right in. It was kind of scary how much they actually relied on Jester’s presence with the group. Even thinking about her, Beau felt a pang of pain in her chest.

‘Ah, yes,’ said Dmitri. ‘I’ll admit, Mister...’

‘Wayne,’ Fjord told him. ‘Jonathon Wayne.’

‘Mister Wayne, I don’t think there’s anything you can offer me that would convince me to see this place.’

‘Well, you haven’t heard what I have to offer,’ Fjord said, with a roguish sort of wink. He took a platinum piece in his hand, and flipped it into the air. Beau gave a slight snort. It must have worked, though, because Traven definitely seemed intrigued. That was the thing about rich people. They were always looking for ways to get richer. Beau had stolen from a lot of rich people in her time, including her own family.

Beau was distracted. She had been casting her gaze around the place; beyond the house to what looked like a large pit. There were a number of workers at the edge of it, holding pickaxes. One of them was Yasha.

It was a depressing sight. Beau didn’t need to have a huge amount of experience with mines to know that this wasn’t a pleasant place to be. The workers that she could see were wearing jumpsuits that looked like they hadn’t been washed in several years, their faces caked with mud, and an identical tired, exhausted, defeated look in their eyes.

Yasha, by contrast, looked determined, and if the overseer,  or any of the guards had been paying closer attention, they might have noticed.

‘It’s a...smooth operation, I see,’ Fjord was saying, as he looked out over the mine. ‘You get a consistent take then?’ Beau tried not to wince. This was part of the plan, after all. Fjord pretending to be a rich asshole with more money than sense, who wanted to own a diamond mine, and didn’t care how much he paid to get it. The one time that being a clueless idiot would pay off.

The Dmitri laughed. He pulled a diamond from his pocket. At least, he pulled something from his pocket. It was about the size of an egg, and would have been worth a fortune.

‘Forgive me,’ Fjord said, with an appropriately abashed looking grin. ‘I am not an expert in these matters. Cesario!’ He beckoned towards Beau. She rolled her eyes, and spotted a slight smile from Dmitri. ‘Would you allow my, ah...Cesario to examine the diamond?’

‘But of course.’ Dmitri held out the rock, but did not relinquish his grasp on it. Beau made a show of pulling out her eyeglass, scratching it with her fingernail, blowing on it. Dmitri looked immediately worried, which was the tell that she’d been looking for. She didn’t even have to look at it properly to know that it was fake.

‘You want to try again?’ she asked, in a low sort of voice that felt way too unnatural for Beau’s liking. Like she had a bad cough.

He gave a smooth smile, and pulled another rock out of his pocket. It was a test, Beau realized. To let him find out who he was dealing with. Let him know that he couldn’t pull one over on them. This one, she decided, was probably real. Or at least real enough to fool her.

If they were actually trying to buy the mine, it would have been a very good thing. In this instance, it didn’t matter as much, seeing as how they were the ones trying to pull one over on him. More to the point, they were the distraction. Or at least, part of the distraction.

There was a scuffle in the distance. Beau put a hand to her sword, but had no intention of drawing in just yet. She wouldn’t even know what to do with it if she  _did_ draw it. The Cobalt Soul had given her a few lessons on sword-fighting, but Beau almost immediately decided that she vastly preferred a weapon that she couldn’t stab herself with.

‘Get your hands off me!’ came a very familiar voice that somehow sounded completely different. Caleb was haughtier than usual, and, if Beau was being honest, a far better actor than she had expected him to be. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Caleb was actually a pretty charismatic guy when he wanted to be.

Two of the guards that patrolled the outskirts of the mine dragged him forward. He was dressed not in his fine Xhorhasian clothes, but expensive looking clothes of Dwendalian make, that pegged him as a noble from Rexxentrum.

He looked, for all intents and purposes, as though he had been following them, which was, of course, the idea.

‘What are you doing here, Bauer?’ Fjord sneered. ‘You don’t have to go around undercutting me at every place we visit.’

Caleb gave a chuckle that was almost reminiscent of Trent Ikithon. Beau shuddered slightly. ‘Just because you are interested in purchasing someone, Herr Wayne, does not mean that I am not allowed to also be interested.  Your overseer friend would be smart to consider all offers presented to him. ’

‘Cesario,’ Fjord said, gesturing to Beau. With a barely concealed sigh, Beau stepped forward, drawing the sword. She was pretty sure it might have accidentally nicked something on the way out. Hopefully nothing that would bleed too much.

In what was a pretty impressive display of steel to anyone watching, Caleb moved closer to Beau until the blade was pressed against his belly. Beau tightened her grip, and pulled it back the slightest amount.

Caleb stared her down. It was a pretty intimidating look, and Beau was glad that she had not been on the receiving end of it before. ‘Are you going to stab me, Herr Benedict? After everything we have been through?’

Beau didn’t know where he was going with this, but decided to play it out. ‘I work for Mister Wayne, now,’ she said, in that same gruff voice. ‘If you wanted my services, then you should have paid me what I was worth.’

Caleb gave a sad sort of smile. ‘ _Ja_ ,’ he said. ‘I am starting to see that is the case. But I will not make the same mistake twice.’ He turned to the overseer. ‘Mister Dmitri, I am interested in buying your mine, and I am willing to pay what it is worth.’ He turned to look at Fjord. ‘Or at least pay more than what Herr Wayne is willing to offer.’

The overseer laughed. ‘Gentlemen, this mine is worth millions of gold. I would not let it go so easily. Perhaps we should negotiate over dinner.’

Fjord gave Caleb a very long stare. ‘That sounds like a lovely idea,’ he said.


	11. Nott

11 – Nott

The house was a big one.

Big enough that the Mighty Nein, and all of the workers that were packed ten to a room in ramshackle huts probably could have lived there comfortably, with more than enough room to still run an inn out of there.

While the Overseer was distracted by Fjord and Beau (and soon, Caleb) Nott edged around the side of it, invisible, looking for an inconspicuous door or window.

Being invisible meant that she probably could have walked straight up to the front door, and wandered in while the group of them were talking there.

At the side of the house was a small door that looked as though it could have been for servants or other workers. Nott would have to be careful; if it was that part of the house, then there would be more people wandering around. It wasn’t that they would see her, more that it would be harder to slip through without running into people.

Strangely, it was quiet. The door swung open without resistance, and Nott slipped her thieves tools back into her pocket.

The house was quiet.

It was a little surprising. She expected to perhaps run into a maid doing the dusting, or someone measuring the floorboards, or whatever it was that the servants of rich people did.

Hearing voices from near what she assumed was the front of the house, Nott made her way in that direction. She assumed that there might be a small stash of diamonds in an easily accessible location, just for situations like this. Showing off fancy jewels to prospective buyers.

The tension in the sitting room was palpable, though Nott hoped the overseer wasn’t feeling the same sort of tension. He was probably feeling a different sort of tension, from the way Caleb and Fjord were staring at each other like they wanted to commit murder.

Beau was scanning the room, and Nott could tell that the other woman was keeping an eye out for Nott. She wouldn’t see anything. Not that Beau wasn’t perceptive; Nott was just very, very good at what she did.

More to the point, though, she knew what was riding on this whole heist. If they failed, if Nott was caught, then Jester might be lost to them forever. Even terrified as she was, Nott had taken the drastic step of giving her flask to Caduceus, just so she wouldn’t be tempted. Her hands shook slightly as she edged along the wall.

‘I suppose it’s really more of a lunch,’ the overseer said. ‘But I would prefer to get this squared away.’ _Prefer to get you strange people out of my house_. He didn’t sound trustful, but he also didn’t sound as though he’d caught onto the specific sort of scheme they were planning. With any luck, Nott would be out of there with the diamonds before anyone realized what was going on.

‘I wonder if I could trouble you for a drink,’ Caleb said, sounding ever humble. ‘My throat is quite parched. The overseer considered the question, before coming to a decision.

‘Merrat, fetch some wine, will you? The Lionett bloodwine, perhaps.’ Nott’s heart started to beat a little fast. She looked over at Beau, who had started slightly at the name.

‘No,’ Beau said. Fjord, Caleb and the Overseer all turned to look at her. ‘Last season’s bloodwine is swill. Mentiri Thistle, if you have it. A much smoother flavor.’ The Overseer looked slightly non-plussed, as he gave Beau a curious look. She was supposed to be the backup, not the point man. Fjord was supposed to be the one leading this thing. Beau _was_ supposed to be the shady distraction, though, so things weren’t necessarily going off the rails just yet.

‘The Thistle, then,’ he said. ‘An expert in wine _and_ diamonds.’ He did not take his eyes off her, and Nott tightened her hand on her crossbow. ‘Interesting.’ His curious look did not fade, but he said nothing more, simply watching Beau as the servant Nott assumed was Merrat scurried away to fetch the wine.

Sensing her opportunity, Nott followed him.

He went past half a dozen or so closed door, which Nott doubted held anything of great value. Still, they would be worth a look if she had time. This was the sort of guy that held anything of value in an expensive, hard to crack vault, or a safe. If there was one thing in the world that Nott was good at, it was cracking a hard lock.

The servant – Merrat – headed downstairs, deep under the house. It must have been some pretty fucking good wine if they didn’t just have some sitting in the kitchens. Hell, maybe the wine was in the vault. Nott made another mental note to take some wine as well.

_No_, she reminded herself. _Diamonds are your first priority_. _As many as you can carry. More than you can carry._

Belatedly, Nott realized that she really should have taken the Bag of Holding from Fjord. At least then, she wouldn’t have had to worry about not being able to get enough diamonds. It was a bit late to go and ask him now, when he was busy talking with the guy they wanted to steal from.

Merrat stopped at an inconspicuous looking door at the end of the hallway. There was no keyhole. He waved his hand in front of it, and the seemed to unlock. Nott scurried forwards, not wanting to get left behind. Her foot scraped a loose tile, and she bit back a swear.

_Fuck_.

Merrat stopped. Turned. Frowned. He looked around, trying to see if there was anything behind him. Nott didn’t dare move.

After several minutes, he seemed to decide that there was nothing there, and walked through the door. Nott followed him.

While the hallway behind was lined with low-hanging torches in wall brackets, this room instead had glowing orbs that did not give off any heat. Several hundred bottles of wine lined the walls, but more importantly, there was a very large, very secure door in the back of the cellar. Merrat stopped at one of the rows of wine, and selected a yellow-labeled bottle with the image of a lion on the front of it. The lion had a thistle branch in its mouth.

Nott waited for Merrat to leave, hiding behind a large barrel filled with what smelled like whiskey.

The servant walked out, the door clicking shut behind him. She didn’t think it would be as easy to get out as it had been to get in. Well, she would have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

Instead of worrying about that, she made her way to the back of the cellar, keeping an eye out for anything that might have been a trap, that would alert someone to her presence.

There was only one thing; a faint line that glowed around the boundary of the safe. It seemed like it might have been pressure activated, and only seemed to cover a small portion of the floor, so Nott used a shelf as leverage, and vaulted across to land in front of the safe.

Nott examined it for several minutes, aware that the longer she took, the longer the distraction upstairs would have to be maintained for.

It was not a design that she was familiar with, though it did have some familiar looking mechanisms. Nott’s hand went to her flask, before she remembered that she didn’t have it.

_Fuck_.

Hand shaking, she worked on the first lock. It was one of the more difficult ones that she’d come across, and took several attempts to open. Then, the second lock. Then, the third.

Finally, the safe swung open in front of her, and her tiny little heart skipped a beat.

There were thousands of gold worth of diamonds just sitting there, waiting to be shipped out.

Nott stared.

That was more than enough to bring Jester back, once Beau cut them. More than enough to sell, and retire on. To return to her family, and never have to go adventuring again. More than enough to buy the freedom of all the workers in this godsdamned place. Hell, even five hundred gold worth of diamonds was wealth than any of these workers would see in their lives. More than she and Yeza had seen in their lives, before everything had happened.

Without even thinking of what the consequences might be, Nott started loading the diamonds into her pockets. She didn’t know exactly how many she needed, but she figured that as many of the large ones as possible would be her safest bet.

Pockets loaded with diamonds (plus a couple of other interesting things) Nott pulled the safe door shut, and carefully made her way back to the cellar door.

It didn’t seem to open from the inside.

_Fuck_.

Nott pulled out a small piece of copper wire, and pointed a finger up in the direction of the front of the house, hoping desperately that Beau was within the range of the spell.

‘I have the diamonds,’ she whispered, even though to her knowledge, there was no-one around to hear her. ‘I can’t get out of the wine cellar. See if you can get him to come back down. Cough if you can hear me.’

There was a long pause, followed by a very small cough inside Nott’s head. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. It would have been just their luck to come all this way, and get the diamonds, only to be stopped by a magical door.

It was a long wait.

Nott waited silently, just in case she missed the sound of anyone coming. She supposed that Beau would have had to wait for a natural opportunity to get someone down here, rather than just immediately demand things in what was supposed to be tense (if fake) negotiations. At one point, her invisibility dropped, so she popped it back up again. Hopefully, she would not have to cast it a third time.

After another ten minutes or so, she heard footsteps.

‘I think you’ll find our wine collection to be very impressive, Mr…forgive me, it was Benedict, was it not?’ The voice of the overseer filtered through, somehow still sounding as though it came from a hundred miles away.

Beau gave what sounded like a grunt of assent.

The door swung open. Nott didn’t dare move. She couldn’t leave Beau alone down here with the guy, regardless of where negotiations were at. She waited.

‘It’s a very impressive collection,’ Beau said, finally. The overseer hadn’t moved away from the door, and Nott had a suddenly sinking feeling of horror.

‘It is,’ he said. ‘It is. Foolish of you, though, to lure me down here. I’m not nearly as stupid as you would think.’ He drew his sword.

Beau gave him a look. ‘I don’t think you’re stupid at all,’ she said, calmly. She didn’t look worried, or afraid. Carefully, Nott readied her crossbow.

‘Really?’ he said. ‘Then you won’t be surprised to know that my safe is interwoven with a very intricate _Alarm_ spell. Any disruption of that, and I am immediately warned. Imagine my surprise, when before I could even do anything about it, the _lackey_ of the man who so suddenly wanted to buy my diamond mine has a very intense interest in the wine cellar. I know you have an accomplice still in here.’ He kicked the door shut with his foot. ‘Take off your belt.’

Beau gave a slight grin. She raised her hand to her waist, and undid the belt that held her sword. ‘I assure you, Mr. Traven, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She gave a slight nod, and Nott took it for the signal she knew it was.

It only took one shot.

The elf clutched at the crossbow bolt that pierced his throat, but to no avail. Blood spurt from the wound, as he dropped to his knees.

‘Fuck,’ Beau breathed. ‘Nice shot. How do we get out of here?’

Nott dropped her invisibility. ‘That’s what _you_ were supposed to do!’

‘Yeah, well _you _were supposed to check the safe for traps!’

Neither of them particularly had their heart in the bickering, and it petered out quickly. ‘Let me send Caleb a message.’ Beau shook her head.

‘They went outside with the guards; they’ll probably be out of range.’

‘Shit!’ Nott muttered. She put her hands over her body, looking for something – anything – that would help the situation. She had an explosive bolt, but no keg full of gunpowder. If only they had something…

Nott’s head shot over to the barrel she had hid behind, not half an hour before.

She grinned.

‘Stand back,’ she told Beau. ‘It’s time for something I like to call…Fluffernutter 2.0.’


	12. Caleb

12 – Caleb

Caleb paced the ground outside the house, trying not to let himself fall into the trap of talking to Fjord. They were still being watched, and he was starting to get mildly concerned.

He had been reticent enough to let Beau go with the Overseer (assuming, of course, that it was the result of a request from Nott), but now it had been far longer than he had liked without hearing something from either of his friends.

‘Should we perhaps think about following them?’ he murmured to Fjord, even as he glanced back at one of the two guards by the front door. ‘It has been some time, _ja_?’ They had already been escorted out of the house, and were, ostensibly, waiting for the Overseer to return with Beau.

‘I think they’ve got it,’ Fjord said.

That was when they heard the explosion.

The whole building rattled, and some of the very nice looking stained-glass windows shattered. Caleb’s ears were ringing.

_Scheisse. _

This was not part of the plan.

The guards at the door sprung into action immediately. Swords drawn, and running down the hallway to the source of the explosion, leaving the front door wide open. Caleb didn’t need directions. He knew exactly where the sound had come from, and who had been down there.

He ran.

He tripped a little over the threshold of the mansion, but did not waste time in checking his injuries, letting Fjord pull him to his feet.

They kept running.

The closer they got, the more he could feel the heat of the flames. His mind threatened to leave, to make its way back to that cold night in Blumenthal. At least this time, there was no screaming yet.

The guards were at least thirty feet ahead of them. If they got there first, if Nott and Beauregard were lying unconscious (or worse) in that wine cellar, then he would have to act quickly. There were several spells he had that could be fired at a distance. _Widogast’s Web of Fire _would have been his preferred choice, but this seemed like the sort of situation where more fire would not help. _Acid Arrow_ was probably his next best choice, but it meant that Fjord would have to send off an _Eldritch Blast _almost simultaneously if they wanted to attack both guards at once.

All of these thoughts went through his head very quickly, as they sprinted down the staircase. The only thing he said (through gasping breaths) was, ‘_Eldritch Blast_.’

‘Yup,’ Fjord said, clearly in much better shape than Caleb. He didn’t waste his breath with unnecessary words.

Caleb fumbled for his component pouch, and pulled a crumbled rhubarb leaf, and an adder’s stomach. He rubbed his hands together, and pointed in the direction of…

…In the direction of the two guards lying dead on the ground, one with a crossbow bolt sticking from his chest, and the other with his neck snapped, and a panting, ash-covered Beauregard standing over him, fists clenched, ears bleeding. She looked up at Caleb and Fjord.

‘Let’s fucking go!’ she yelled, far more loudly than she needed to. The door was lying in broken, blackened pieces, and it seemed as though most of the destruction had happened inside the cellar, where a very impressive alcohol collection was still smothered in flames. The heat rose on his cheeks, even though the fire was well away from him.

‘_Wo ist_—’ Caleb started, inadvertently falling back into Zemnian. His heart seized up in his chest. He could not lose Nott, too.

‘Hey!’ Beau yelled. Not at him, he realized, but back into the cellar. ‘Quit stealing shit and let’s go!’

‘Literally the only reason I’m here is to steal shit!’ came a snappy retort, and half a second later, a similarly ashy looking goblin appeared. Caleb could not fail to notice that her pockets were spilling over with diamonds. If she ran, there was a good chance she would lose them all.

‘Give the diamonds to Fjord,’ he said, and Nott gave him a look. He suspected that he was probably the only person that she would not question such an order from.

Fjord held out the bag, and Caleb watched as Nott emptied handfuls of diamonds into it. It was more wealth than he had ever seen in his life. Even Fjord seemed impressed. Beauregard, however, was looking back up the hallway, watching for any incoming threats.

She had grown up in wealth, he remembered. He was not sure how much a successful winery brought in, but, remembering the very impressive house they’d seen in Kamordah, it was probably a lot.

‘What happened in there?’ he asked, gesturing towards cellar.

Beau frowned. Then, she seemed to remember the explosion. ‘Oh. Yeah, dude had a tripwire around his safe, so when I went down to help out, he was like “yeah, I’m not buying this,” so Nott had to shoot him.’

‘But because the door was shut, we had to _blow it up_!’ Nott’s eyes were glowing with adrenaline, and apparently, pride. There was a slight pause. ‘I may have…miscalculated slightly.’ She glanced guiltily towards Beau, who had not bothered to wipe the blood from her ears. In fact, she may not have even realized she was bleeding.

‘Well, we definitely heard the explosion from outside,’ Fjord told them. ‘So I’m pretty sure we’re about to say hi to all the _other_ guards that keep an eye on this place.’ Beau was watching his face very closely, and Caleb got the distinct impression that her ears were still ringing.

‘Can you hear me?’ he said, while her face was still turned.

‘What?’ Beau asked, before she even realized she’d said it. Then, she figured it out. ‘Don’t worry, man, I’m good.’ Her voice was still a decent amount louder than it needed to be.

‘Too loud,’ Caleb told her.

‘What?’ she said again, and then, in a much quieter voice, ‘Oh. Sorry. Might take a while.’ Might take a while before her hearing came back, she meant.

‘We need to find Yasha and Caduceus and get out of here,’ Fjord said, once they had started moving again. A little slower this time, but still at a brisk pace, ready to fight any guards that crossed their path. He gave Beau a look. ‘Plus, once the guards are gone, the workers will be free.’

Caleb was not sure that it would be so simple, but he said nothing. This was not the time for that particular argument. The most important thing was to get out of here with the diamonds, and find someone of the skill level required to cast the spell. That, Caleb was sure, would be just as difficult a task as finding the diamonds in the first place. The sort of thing that they would only be able to find in a big city, or by asking everyone that they knew. It was disheartening that most of the allies that they did have were experts in arcane magic, rather than the divine. Perhaps the Cobalt Soul…

The worker’s camp was on fire.

Caleb came to a sudden halt as he saw it, the vision of flames burning in his brain. He could hear screams, but was unsure whether they were in his head, or in real life. Yasha would be in there, and Caduceus too, if he had seen it happen, which was likely (Caduceus didn’t miss much of anything). He pricked his ears, tried to isolate the individual sounds.

‘Caleb!’ Beau said, sharply, her voice still louder than normal. Her hearing had not yet returned. She and Nott were both looking at him, in the sort of way that made him certain that they were all thinking the same thing. ‘You with us, man?’

‘_Ja_,’ Caleb muttered, then, for Beau’s benefit, because it was dark outside, and his lips were hard to see, he nodded. The fire gave off a flickering sort of light.

‘Yasha’s gonna be in the thick of that,’ Fjord said, and he reached into the Bag of Holding. It emerged clutching not Dwueth’var, but Skingorger. Then, he reached in a second time, and pulled out Beau’s staff. She seemed to catch it and run off in one swift movement, the action waking something in Caleb. He was wasting time standing here thinking about the past.

Yasha and Caduceus needed his help.

Beau and Fjord and Nott needed his help.

Jester needed his help.

He wondered how much pain she had felt, burning to ash in front of a dragon.

Caleb pushed his fears to the back of his mind, and soldiered forwards. There were too many people on the battlefield, too much fighting for him to properly distinguish friend from foe. The armored, sword-wielding ones were likely to be the guards, but a few of the prisoners seemed to have taken up weapons as well.

Swearing, he cast _Haste _on Yasha. Sword now in hand, rage consuming her, she would be able to cut them down like they were nothing more than blades of grass.

It was over before it had really even started.

Yasha, and Beau and Fjord had taken care of most of the guards that weren’t being swarmed by prisoners, and the rest had been taken out by a few well-placed shots from Nott and Caduceus. Caleb put away the clay cat’s paw he had been reaching for.

There were several moments of still, painful silence, where the only thing in the world Caleb could hear was the flickering of fire.

‘Hey.’ A small hand took his. Caleb looked down and saw Nott, yellow eyes wide in concern. ‘You want to take a walk over this way?’ She gestured off in the opposite direction to the house, to the entrance of the quarry, well away from the flames and the bodies.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, once they were a reasonable distance away.

Caleb steeled himself. ‘_Ja_,’ he said. ‘It…ah…the situation got away from me a bit.’ Not that he wasn’t almost used to fire at this point. It was more that he vastly preferred the fire that he had control over. Not the fire from an unexpected explosion, or the fire of a battle already in progress.

The rest of the group made their way over, each sporting various minor cuts and scrapes. Fjord and Yasha had apparently spent some time talking to the workers, who had been rightfully suspicious at this group of strangers.

‘I think they’re glad enough to have their freedom,’ Fjord said, lightly. ‘Given the conditions they were being kept in, I don’t think the Crownsguard will be looking too much into things.’

‘They have it,’ Yasha said, in a strange sort of voice. Caleb wondered what she had learned, but that was a question for another time. They had to leave this place, to look at the diamonds and work out whether they had enough. Then, they had to find someone that was willing to cast the spell.

Caleb drew the _Teleportation Circle_ to Xhorhas, and watched as his friends ran through it.

He gave one last look back to the flames before he followed.


	13. Yasha

13 – Yasha

The mine was not a pleasant place to be.

Yasha had been in many unpleasant places before. In the Iothlia Moorlands, in the Barbed Fields, trapped inside her own head while a fiend controlled her every move.

This was its own kind of unpleasant.

Fjord had been as gentle as he dared on their approach to the camp, trying not to let the manacles jostle too much. He was reluctant to play the part too well, for which Yasha was both somehow relieved and frustrated.

Relieved, because she had been imprisoned far more times in her life than she was comfortable with, frustrated, because Fjord more than any of them should have known the value of needing to lie to maintain a cover.

He still felt a little guilty, she knew, for his behavior in the wake of her return from underneath Obann’s hold. ‘If you need anything,’ he murmured, under the guise of muttering threats into her ear, ‘Then Nott will be keeping an eye on things. Now act like I said something cruel.’ He pulled back, and Yasha snarled, striking out with her fist. Fjord wasn’t fast enough to dodge, and it hit him in the jaw.

He laughed. It was a cold, humorless laugh. Nothing like Fjord’s laugh at all. He pushed her forwards, and it took a split second before she remembered not to resist, stumbling forward into the dirt.

That was better.

She got to her knees, and felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. ‘Stay down while I talk to the good Overseer,’ he said. ‘If you move, those guards will shoot you.’ He gestured towards the armored guards that had crossbows at the ready. Yasha knew she could take a few hits from a crossbow, but that obviously wasn’t the play.

Yasha watched intently as Fjord spoke to a tall elven man with golden hair. They were far enough away that Yasha could not hear the words of the conversation, but judging by the look on Fjord’s face, it was going the way it was supposed to.

In any case, Fjord left, giving Yasha one last look. She waited there in the dirt, for someone to tell her to move. It took a while, and she got the very clear impression that none of them were too concerned with the safety or the comfort of a slave.

Eventually, a half-orc wearing a plain yellowing tunic came to her. Pulled her to her feet roughly.

‘Come with me,’ the woman said. Yasha obeyed.

‘My name is Erimus,’ the half-orc said. She was tall – taller even than Yasha – and had long, dark hair.

‘I am—’ For half a second, Yasha forgot what her fake name was supposed to be. ‘Zuala.’ Oh no.

Erimus frowned. ‘That was not the name that the Overseer told me.’ Yasha didn’t answer straight away, though somehow, the silence seemed to work in her favor. ‘Though, our masters do not always gift us with our preferred names.’

Seeing he opportunity, Yasha nodded. ‘The name they gave me,’ she said. ‘I have no attachment to it.’ That, apparently, was a good answer. In any case, Erimus didn’t ask any more questions. She unlocked the manacles around Yasha’s wrists, and gave her a few seconds to rub the wounds left there.

‘Keep your head down, work hard and there won’t be any problems.’ Yasha was led to her quarters, though “quarters” was a rather generous term. It was a small, two-person tent with four bedrolls squeezed into it. There was a trench dug around the tent, probably for drainage, but it didn’t seem to be working very well; there was water all through the inside of the tent, and mold was growing on the edges of it.

Admittedly, not the worst place she had ever had to sleep.

Not that she would be doing much sleeping here. Almost immediately, they took her down into the pit and put her to work. One of her new tentmates, a half-elf man named Finn, muttered to her under his breath. ‘If you steal anything, they kill you, slack off on the job, they kill you, do anything that they think is considered in any way mutinous, they kill you.’

‘Right,’ Yasha said. It was about as she had expected, which was why she had been so reluctant to let any of the rest of them fill this role. They might not even need someone undercover in this part, if Nott managed to find what they were looking for elsewhere. Speaking of…Yasha knew that Nott was supposed to be keeping an eye on her, but no matter where she looked, she couldn’t see anything.

That was probably a good thing. If Nott couldn’t be seen, it meant that she was doing her job. All that was left was for Yasha to do hers.

It was hard work.

When Beau had mentioned a diamond mine, Yasha had expected something deep underground, with narrow tunnels, and bad air. Instead, the mine was more of an open pit, and the workers were going through the clay-like soil layer by layer. As one of the stronger workers, Yasha was immediately tasked with chipping away at the rocks and the soil, and carting it over to be sorted through.

They worked long hours, for very little result.

Around one in the afternoon, they stopped for lunch; a very unappealing meal of off meat and rotting vegetables. Yasha ate without complaint. It was not too much worse than eating spider, though at least spider could be delicious if prepared properly. Yasha’s stomach was stronger than most, and she managed to keep the food down. A few of the other workers were not as lucky, and ran off to use the wooden bucket that was a shared toilet between several dozen.

After lunch, they went back to work.

‘He’ll be happy with you,’ Finn laughed, watching Yasha lug several large rocks over to the sorting table. ‘Most all the workers they bring through here are weaker than a kitten. You must’ve cost him a fortune.’

‘Yes,’ Yasha said, blankly. ‘These arms are worth a lot.’ Finn laughed. A crossbow bolt pinged past his ear.

‘No talking!’ yelled the guard, lowering his crossbow. Yasha wondered if he had been aiming for the head. Giving the guard a deadly look, she put her axe over her shoulder. You could do a lot of damage with a pickaxe. Anything with a sharp end, really. Anything with a bit of weight to it.

But, if she started killing guards now, then it would ruin the plan that everyone else was going to put into motion the next day. But, when the time came, she would take very much pleasure in snapping the neck of anyone that was responsible for keeping this place running.

They were kept working until late in the night, before being fed a meal that was just as inedible as lunch had been.

The people here were thin, and malnourished, and altogether beaten down. Yasha could barely imagine spending another week here, let alone months or years. It was important – very important – that they do whatever was necessary to help Jester, but Yasha did not want to leave here tying off the loose ends.

Yasha squeezed into the bedroll at the edge of the tent. It was damp with mildew, and smelled worse than the latrine of most taverns she’d been in.

She must have made some noise of disgust, because the woman in the next bedroll gave her a pat on the shoulder. ‘I wish I could say you get used to it,’ she grimaced. ‘But you don’t.’

‘Oh,’ was all Yasha could think to say.

‘How’d they get you, anyway?’ the woman continued. ‘You look like you can handle yourself.’

‘I…’ Yasha said, suddenly at a loss. This was part of the story that they had put together, but she had already forgotten it. ‘I let my guard down,’ she said.

Yasha’s sleep was scattered, but that was nothing new. She would like to say that she had not slept well only since Jester had died, but really, it had been since returning from under Obann’s hold, or since Zuala had died. Every night, if it was not the Stormlord speaking to her, then it was memories of the things she had done while mind controlled, or that last night in the Iothlia Moorlands, before she had fled.

She was shaken awake just before dawn. ‘Time for breakfast,’ they told her, and for a moment, she was surprised that they would be so kind as to give breakfast, but then she saw that breakfast was a sort of hard tack that was flavorless and almost broke her teeth. Yasha managed to eat three of them before they were ushered back down into the pit.

It was another long day. Yasha’s nails were split and bloody from carrying rocks, and, though she considered herself a strong person, there were a few times where she almost faltered. There was a difference between “strong” and being able to carry large rocks for hours at a time without stopping. The one time she did stop – just to catch her breath – the nearest guard whacked her across the back of the shoulders with the flat of his sword. It wasn’t enough to really do any damage, but enough that Yasha was holding back on the rage that swelled inside her.

These were not good people.

These were the sort of people who, when the time came, Yasha would happily tear them limb from limb, even without the assistance of her sword.

Yasha looked to Finn, who had a tired sort of look on his face. He gave a look of commiseration. ‘We’ll get ‘em one day,’ he muttered, under the guise of helping Yasha pick up another rock.

‘Be ready,’ Yasha told him. His look turned to confusion, but Yasha did not give him time to ask questions.

The time came late that afternoon.

Yasha was standing by the edge of the pit, pickaxe over her shoulder. She had watched carefully – but not too carefully – as Beau and Fjord had ridden up on horseback. They spoke with the Overseer, but, being so far away, Yasha couldn’t hear a single word. She could barely even see their lips moving, because the

Though she desperately wanted to keep watching, that would more than likely end in violence, and while the distraction probably would have helped, she didn’t want to make thing more difficult if the place got locked down.

Whatever happened, she would follow their lead.

It was an hour or so before anything happened, and then everything happened at once.

There was a loud rumbling sound back up at the house that sounded suspiciously like an explosion. All of the guards looked back and forth at each other, before rushing back up.

‘_I think that’s our cue,_’ came Caduceus’s voice inside her head, a moment later.

‘Okay,’ Yasha said. She readied her pickaxe. The rest of the workers were looking at her in confusion.

‘Now,’ she said.

In the pit, it was short, and it was bloody. The guards were not strong, and were no match for a raging barbarian with an improvised weapon. Yasha did not wait to hear anything from anyone else before surging up to the camp, knocking over a lantern as she tackled the first guard that she saw. His sword bit into her shoulder, but she barely even noticed it.

Barely even noticed the lantern catch on one of the tents, or the fire that started to spread as other workers, carrying the swords of the dead guards, ran into the fray. A few errant pink blasts caught her attention, and she saw Caduceus – staff crawling with bugs – not far off.

Then, a few moments later, the door to the house burst open, and four figures emerged at a run. Yasha’s heartbeat seemed to return to normal, but the rage did not fade. There were still guards to kill.

She turned to the one that had just swung at her, and smashed the pickaxe into his sternum. He gasped, and staggered backwards, but didn’t go down.

‘Yasha!’ a voice called out, and Yasha suddenly noticed the enormous, rusted sword being handed to her. It was accompanied by a sudden burst of speed, and she found herself carving through the guards as though they were statues, unable to defend themselves.

_For Jester._

Things seem to finish as quickly as they had started. The rage faded, and a few seconds after that, Yasha was overwhelmed with a sudden exhaustion.

‘You good?’ Yasha turned, and realized that Fjord was standing at her side.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. Erimus, the half-orc that had brought Yasha to her tent, approached, her sword and her tunic both covered in blood. Yasha put out a hand. ‘He is on our side,’ she said. Erimus eyed him warily. Yasha wondered whether it helped or hurt that Fjord was a half-orc.

‘These are your people?’ Erimus gestured over to where the rest of the group were, Caduceus standing with Beau, and Caleb and Nott off a little way away. Yasha nodded. ‘Why would you help us?’

‘We had, ah…an ulterior motive,’ Fjord told her. ‘If we could help some people in need while we did it, then we’re glad to have done it.’ He paused. ‘You seem like the sort of person that can handle situations. While we would love to stay and help, we are on a bit of a time crunch.’

Erimus frowned. Yasha couldn’t tell whether or not the woman believed Fjord, but she decided to leave him to it. She was bad enough with words that she knew she would be doing more harm than good if she tried to help him.

Instead, she went over to stand with Caduceus and Beau. Caduceus took one look at Yasha, and put a hand to her shoulder. It wasn’t until he healed her that she even realized she’d been injured.

‘You good?’ Beau asked. There was matted blood that dripped from her ears, but she, too, seemed to have been healed.

‘Yes,’ Yasha said. ‘I am good.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters after this: Caduceus, then The Mighty Nein, then the Epilogue.


	14. Caduceus

14 – Caduceus

The Mighty Nein arrived in Rosohna, exhausted, and overwhelmed.

Caduceus’s ears were still ringing slightly from the explosion, and everything else that had followed. It wasn’t nearly bad enough to consider using a heal on them; not when everyone else was looking far worse. He had already healed Yasha, and Beau, and anyone else that needed it. Though he knew it wouldn’t be him casting the spell to bring Jester back, he wanted to save the rest of his spells, just in case.

Regardless, they would not be able to cast the spell, even if they had found someone to do it for them. The diamonds still had to be prepared; in their current state, if Beau’s words were anything to go by, they weren’t worth nearly as much as they would be once they were cut and polished and all of those other things.

They started off back towards the house, and Caleb faltered. ‘I am going to find Essek,’ he said. ‘Perhaps someone in the Dynasty will have the skills to help us.’

‘Good idea.’ Fjord nodded. ‘You want the rest of us to go with you? For moral support?’

Caleb seemed to consider the offer. ‘I think, ah…I think that I may have better luck on my own,’ he said. ‘I need to clear my head.’

Fjord made to argue, and it looked like Beau was going to back him up. Not because there was anything particularly egregious to argue about, but more because they all seemed to argue at the drop of a hat lately.

In the end, they compromised. Caduceus went with Caleb, so that he could _Send _a message to the group with the outcome. Caduceus could tell that Caleb wasn’t altogether pleased with this result, but said nothing. Exactly what it was that Caleb may have wanted to discuss with Essek on his own behind closed doors, the wizard was surely not going to tell.

Caleb was silent for most of the walk. Caduceus had seen the way he reacted to the fires at the mine; it was a reaction that he had seen from Caleb more than once before. Fire, it seems, is both the wizard’s greatest friend, and his worst enemy.

Essek was waiting for them, and Caduceus wondered if Caleb had quietly sent a message using the _Sending Stone_. It seemed likely.

Essek led them into a sitting room.

‘I think you know why we are here,’ Caleb said, and for a very, very brief moment, Essek looked terrified, but then Caleb continued. ‘We are here once more to ask for your help. We have the material components to bring Jester back, but, ah…It is a very high-level spell. We do not have the skill.’

Essek’s face smoothed over into a look of relief. ‘While you have been away, I have been putting out feelers, considering such an eventuality. If you have the diamonds, then I believe I have found a cleric that can help.’

‘Not without cost, I imagine,’ Caleb said, eyes seeming to pierce into Essek.

‘Not without cost,’ Essek agreed. ‘But, I have done what I can in terms of negotiating such cost.’ He paused. Seemed to consider whether or not he wanted to say the next words. ‘I never thought that I would admit to missing a voice in my head in the middle of the night.’

Caduceus chuckled. There was no shortage of small things like that that they all missed. Dicks in random places, and conversations about The Traveler, and even just a general air of positivity.

‘Contact me when you are ready,’ Essek said.

…

Caleb seemed in much brighter spirits on their return to the Xhorhaus. Whether it was seeing Essek, or the news that they had someone that would cast the spell to bring Jester back, it was unclear.

In the house, the rest of the group dispersed after Caleb told them the good news. After all that, Caduceus hadn’t even sent a message anyway. Most of them went to their respective bedrooms to sleep, but Beau had immediately gone to the long kitchen table and gotten out her Jeweler’s Kit.

‘Better get started on these,’ she told Caduceus, as he stood in the doorway, watching. Not particularly subtle about his concern, apparently.

‘Do you want some tea?’

‘Sure,’ Beau said.

Caduceus made tea.

It was an unusual blend of ginger and lavender that had always given him pretty good results in calming people down, even if not quite as good as a night’s sleep. He left some for Beau at the table. Then, he went to the library to find that Caleb had fallen asleep without even taking off his shoes.

Gently, Caduceus pulled the boots off, and set them by the door. Frumpkin gave an acknowledging sort of meow.

‘You take care of him for me, hey?’ Caduceus said, and Frumpkin leapt onto the bed, curling into the space between Caleb’s arm and torso.

Upstairs, Yasha and Nott were both asleep as well, though they, at least, had managed to finish getting dressed. Fjord was not in his room, so Caduceus climbed the rest of the tower to find the half-orc sitting beneath the enormous tree, eyes closed.

‘I’m not very good at this yet,’ he said, as Caduceus approached.

‘There’s no one way to pray.’ Caduceus set the mug of tea in front of him. ‘Whichever way you decide to talk to the Wildmother, that’s the right way for you.’ Fjord gave a tusky sort of smile.

‘It feels wrong,’ he admitted. ‘Not that I’m any authority on other peoples’ religions, but…Using a cleric of the Luxon, rather than one of the Traveler, or even the Wildmother…It makes it a little less personal.’

‘It will still be personal enough,’ Caduceus assured him. ‘Resurrection magic is very strong magic. It requires offerings from people beyond just the one casting the spell.’

Fjord frowned. ‘Offerings?’

‘Think of it as, ah…incentive for Jester to return.’

‘Oh.’ Fjord frowned, but didn’t ask anything further. ‘You know,’ he said, when Caduceus got up, and started to make his way over to the small shack where he slept. ‘You shouldn’t spend all your energy taking care of us. You have to let us return the favor sometimes, too.’

Caduceus smiled. ‘You already are,’ he said.

…

Caduceus didn’t sleep much.

It was good to be back beneath the tree, he had to admit, but there was too much going on for rest to come easily. It was after only a few hours that he padded back downstairs to the kitchen, only to find Yasha at the door, and Beau still sitting at the kitchen table.

‘How long have you been awake?’

Beau didn’t answer, which told Caduceus that it was probably a very long time. The large pile of rough diamonds seemed to be the same size as it had been when he’d left the night (day?) before.

Yasha tried a different question. ‘How long does it take, per diamond?’

‘Couple of hours,’ Beau grunted. She looked at the pile, where a dozen or so diamonds still remained. Caduceus knew that he was not the smartest of the group, but even he could tell that this was going to take a very long time.

‘Is there anything that we can do to help?’

‘Not really,’ Beau said. She sounded irritable. ‘I mean, these don’t have to be pretty or anything, so I’m trying to get through them and hope we’ve got enough. I’m pretty sure we will.’ She didn’t sound as sure as she no doubt wanted to be.

‘How’s it going?’ came Fjord’s voice from behind Caduceus. Beau looked up.

‘I’ll finish when I fucking finish, _okay_?’ There was a moment of silence. Caduceus was sure he could see the tears in Beau’s eyes.

‘You should get some sleep,’ Yasha said. For a split second, Beau looked as though she wanted to say something scathing (and Yasha probably wouldn’t blame her if she did) but she seemed to shake it off.

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ Beau set down her tools, and scooped the cut and uncut diamonds into a pile. Their light seemed to catch on the flickering flame of the chandelier above. ‘You want to put these in the Bag of Holding?’ she asked Fjord. He took the diamonds carefully, putting them in the pocket of his shirt. It was not as though there was anyone else around to steal them, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

‘She seem okay to you?’ Fjord asked, after Beau had made her way upstairs, Yasha hot on her heels.

‘No more on edge than the rest of us, I’m sure,’ Caduceus said, musingly. ‘I think we all need to take a few deep breaths.’

‘Yeah, that’s fair,’ Fjord admitted. ‘I guess we’re all…’ He paused. ‘I guess we all want Jester back.’

‘You’re…very close with Jester, no?’

Fjord considered the question. ‘I mean, as close as I am with any of you. She was the first of the Mighty Nein that I met, after all.’ He didn’t seem like he was telling the whole truth. There were shades of that going around at the moment. Members of the group thrown into the sudden position of realizing, yet not quite wanting to admit the whole extent of what Jester meant to them.

‘It won’t be long now,’ Caduceus said, giving Fjord a comforting pat on the shoulder. For half a second, he wondered whether Fjord would say anything in return. Fjord said nothing. He swallowed slightly, and gave an appreciative nod, but then he, too, left the room.

Caduceus gave a small sigh.

One way or another, fate would take its course.

…

Late the next evening, they were ready.

After a long sleep, Beau had finished cutting the diamonds. She didn’t look exactly pleased, but Caduceus knew that was the result of fear and stress, rather than any issues with the work. Caleb messaged Essek, and they made their way to the Shadowhand’s house, where the ritual was to take place.

The air of tension that had spent the last few days building was coming to a breaking point. If this did not work, then Caduceus was fairly certain the group would not survive it.

Though it was late, all the lights in Essek’s house were on. He had cleared a space in the study for the ritual to take place, and spoke to the cleric in a low voice.

It was a drow woman. She looked older than Essek, though it was hard to tell. She was wearing a shimmering blue robe, that seemed to change color whichever way you looked at it.

‘This will be a time-consuming process,’ the cleric said. ‘Even with the diamonds, there is not a guarantee of success. ‘If you choose, you can make an offering to this _deity_.’ She sneered slightly. ‘To the _Traveler_, or to your friend, in order to convince her soul to return.’

‘Why would her soul not want to return?’ Beau asked, loudly, before any of the others had a chance to say anything. ‘Why.’ She swallowed. ‘Why wouldn’t she want to come back?’

‘It may not be a question of want,’ Caduceus said, gently. ‘If there’s something preventing her from coming back, then whatever magic we use needs to be stronger than what’s keeping her there. We should all have a quick think about what we want to say, anything that we might want to offer.’

Caduceus couldn’t help but dart his eyes around the group, at the way some of them took on a muted expression of terrified contemplating.

‘The diamonds?’ The cleric’s sharp voice cut through the silence.

Beau passed across the drawstring bag, filled to the brim with cut and polished diamonds. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and dark with exhaustion. The cleric opened the bag onto her altar, and examined the diamonds. Caduceus supposed that she would have to be an expert in such matters, if she did enough resurrections. A tense sort of silence had taken over the chamber.

‘This will be enough,’ she said, finally. There was a general gasp of relief. Caduceus wasn’t sure what they would have done if they’d been short. Thankfully, they didn’t have to worry about it.

‘Very well,’ the cleric said. ‘Let’s begin.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, resurrection ritual! Will anyone confess their love? Probably not because they all have low self-esteem.
> 
> This was supposed to be 5000 words, but now here we are.


	15. The Mighty Nein

15 – The Mighty Nein

Fjord

Nobody spoke.

Nobody wanted to interrupt as the cleric Essek had found went about setting up the ritual, drawing sigils with chalk, and arranging the diamonds. For a moment, it looked like Caduceus was going to offer to help, but he was silenced by a single, withering look.

Beau and Nott, who Fjord would have expected to be a lot more forthright in the matter, were oddly silent.

The cleric’s harsh voice broke through the tense silence. ‘If any of you would like to contribute to the ritual, you may do so now.’ Fjord didn’t like her tone, as though she were talking about baking a cake, rather than bringing a dear friend back from the dead. Though perhaps Jester would like for her resurrection ritual to involve baking a cake.

‘How can we contribute?’ Beau asked, finally breaking her silence.

‘With words, or with an offering. Anything that you think might help convince Jester to return.’ It was Caduceus that spoke, rather than the cleric, however the cleric did not contradict him.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke. Fjord realized that he would have to step up.

‘I’ll go first,’ he found himself saying. His words caught in his throat. He had offered to go first, but now that it came time, all the things he’d thought he was going to say were suddenly lost.

Instead of any of that, he spoke from the heart.

‘You were…the first person I met that saw me for me,’ he said. ‘The first person who knew how much I was trying to pretend to be someone else, and told me it was okay to just be me. I don’t think I ever…told you how much that meant to me.’ He paused. ‘I don’t know…I don’t know if everything’s going to turn out okay, but I do know that the world is a little brighter of a place with you in it.’

For a moment, nothing happened. Fjord felt momentarily foolish, as though his words had meant nothing. Then, part of the sigil lit up, as though it had been activated.

Fjord stepped back.

Beau

Fjord stepped back as the sigil lit up. Emboldened by his success, Beau took a deep breath. If she didn’t go now, then she would either work up the courage to say something she regretted.

Before anyone else could volunteer, she stepped forward.

‘Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to have friends. Wasn’t allowed to really leave the house, wasn’t allowed to do all of that stupid shit that kids are supposed to do. Never thought it’d be after all that when I’d finally get a chance to…’ Beau stopped. Swallowed. There were so many things she wanted to say, but didn’t know how. So many things that she just didn’t have the words for. Instead, she closed her eyes, and put her hand on the edge of the sigil. ‘Please come back,’ she murmured.

Beau stepped back, and started slightly at the touch of a hand on her shoulder. Expecting Fjord, she was kind of surprised that it was Caleb. They shared a momentary glance, during which Beau could not quite interpret his expression.

They both watched as another section of the sigil lit up.

Caleb

Caleb pulled his hand away from Beau’s shoulder. Hand only shaking slightly, he stepped forward.

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small bit of fleece.

‘I once told you that you were the one that changes people. I do not think I could ever really put into words how much you do change people. Without you…I do not think any of us would be who we are today.’

He rubbed the fleece between his fingers, and cast _Major Image_, summoning the amber-colored hamster-unicorns and lollipops that he had promised to unleash at TravelerCon. They encircled the sigil, before scattering into the air in a firework pattern.

‘That was so cool,’ Nott whispered loudly, as he stepped back to stand beside her.

Caleb held out a hand for her to take, but she did not take it.

Nott

Nott looked down at the hand Caleb offered her. She shook her head slightly. There was something she had to do first.

She stepped forward, and laid a single explosive bolt on the edge of the sigil.

‘Caleb might have been the person that I came with to this group, but you were the one that made me feel welcome. We’ve done a lot of great things together, the two most important members of the Chaos Crew. We’ve solved a lot of mysteries, and blown a lot of shit up. But bringing you back…that’ll be the greatest prank we ever pulled, snatching someone up from the very jaws of death. I’d hate for you to miss it.’

As Nott stepped back towards Caleb, the bolt began to hover and glow. Then, it shattered into a hundred pieces.

Nott took Caleb’s hand.

Yasha

Yasha did not hesitate.

She stepped forward, and leafed through her book of flowers, finding the one she wanted. It was large – about the size of her palm – and had dried into a beautiful dark blue. She set the flower on the edge of the sigil, and took a deep breath.

‘For a long time, I was not myself. When everyone else had their doubts, you believed in me, and when I returned, you welcomed me with open arms. I…cannot begin to tell you how much that meant to me, except to say that I…you are a wonderful person, and we all love you very much.’

She stepped back.

It didn’t seem enough.

It could not encapsulate just how much Jester meant to her, meant to all of them. Could not describe the misery that they all felt each day they had to spend without her.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the flower did as Nott’s bolt had done, but instead of shattering, it seemed to crumble into a fine, blue dust. The dust curled on a non-existent wind, before settling over all of them.

Yasha wiped away a tear.

Caduceus

Caduceus watched as all of his friends made their pleas.

This was not his usual way of tending to the dead. Usually, that involved putting people in the ground, and making sure that their death meant something.

This time, though…He looked around, watching the eyes locked onto the sigil. He stepped forward, and sent beetles scurrying from his staff. They encircled the sigils the same way the hamster-unicorns had, before they too, scattered.

‘It’s not your time yet,’ Caduceus said, simply. ‘There’s still work to do.’

He stepped back, as the sigil glowed.

‘Do you want to say anything?’ Caduceus asked Essek, who had thus far been standing back, watching the proceedings with some interest. Essek started slightly, clearly not expecting to be involved in the ritual.

‘I, ah…would not want to intrude.’ He was lying. There was another reason he didn’t want to participate, but Caduceus wasn’t going to push.

They all watched as the other cleric began her prayer to the Luxon.

Jester

‘Jester Lavorre, you have heard your friends pleas. In the name of the Luxon, we beseech you to return.’

The diamonds shimmered and burst apart. Hundreds of thousands of tiny pieces of diamond dust glittered in the glowing lantern light. Fjord wasn’t sure whether or not it was his imagination, but they seemed to be coalescing into the shape of a body. A body with curved horns and a tail.

The diamond remnants exploded outwards, leaving the blue body of a familiar tiefling, clothed in a leather corset and green dress. It wasn’t moving.

Everyone held their breath.

A pair of lavender eyes snapped open.

‘Holy shit, you guys!’


	16. Epilogue - Jester

16 – Epilogue - Jester

It worked.

There had never really been a point where Jester thought that her friends might have failed, but that didn’t stop her from being utterly thrilled at their success.

They barely even waited for her to stand before rushing in with arms wide. Jester wished there was a way she could hug them all at once, to let them know how grateful she was.

Fjord and Beau were at the forefront of the hug, and Nott had snuck in underneath to get to Jester’s knees, whereas Yasha and Caleb hung back ever so slightly, Caduceus a little way behind them.

Jester hugged them each in turn. ‘Oh, man,’ she said. ‘That was so weird.’

‘How do you feel?’ Fjord asked, in that “oh so serious” voice of his.

The weird thing was, Jester felt fine. Not even “fine for just having been brought back from the dead.” Like, she would have thought that she would feel all weird and achy and tired, but she didn’t. ‘It’s super weird. Like…I feel really good.’

‘Perhaps it is because a new body was created,’ Caleb offered. ‘It does not have the same injuries and stresses as the previous body.’

Jester swished around, looking at every part of her. Her tail swished back and forth. ‘I mean, it still looks the same.’

‘Wait, are they the same clothes you were wearing when—’ Nott cut herself off suddenly, hesitant. Jester frowned.

‘I mean, it’s _okay_,’ she said. ‘You can talk about it.’

‘Do you…’ Yasha paused. ‘Do you remember it?’

A tense sort of silence passed across the rest of the group. ‘Not really,’ Jester admitted. ‘But like…the Traveler _told_ me what happened, and if there wasn’t enough left to bring me back then it must have been _pretty bad_.’

‘It was,’ Beau said, shortly. She had been uncharacteristically silent in the minutes since Jester had been brought back, and her eyes were wet with tears. Jester hadn’t seen all of what had happened during the time she’d been dead, but she knew that it had been difficult for all of them.

‘Perhaps we should go back to the house,’ Caduceus suggested. ‘I can make dinner, and we can celebrate your return.’

Now that he mentioned it, Jester _was_ hungry. Maybe because _technically _she hadn’t eaten since she’d been killed by an ancient red dragon. ‘That is a really good idea, Caduceus. I wonder if there are any bakeries open.’

‘We’ll find one for you,’ Essek assured her. Jester hadn’t even realized he’d been there, lurking behind Yasha. She ran up, and hugged him.

‘Did you help them, Essek? I _knew_ you liked us!’

‘I ah…merely helped find a cleric capable of casting such a powerful spell.’ The aforementioned cleric gave a nod, and packed up her supplies.

‘Thank-you so much!’ Jester went to give her a hug too, and the cleric pulled away quickly, with the reflexes of someone that was well-used to having to avoid interpersonal contact.

A sudden idea struck her. ‘Yasha!’ The tall aasimar turned to look at her. ‘Can I get a piggy-back ride?’ Yasha blinked. ‘Of course,’ she said, finally. Jester was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to get Yasha to say yes at any other time. She ran towards the other woman, and jumped, Yasha’s strong arms catching her mid-air, and lifting her towards the shoulders. Jester maneuvered her legs so that they were dangling down across the front of Yasha’s armor.

‘You know, if I’d realized we could’ve gotten piggy-backs all this time…’ Beau said. She was grinning, now, as they left Essek’s house, and started back towards the Xhorhaus.

Nott eyed them both, shrewdly as they walked. ‘Do you think I could sit on _your_ shoulders, Jester?’

‘I do not think that is a good idea,’ Caleb interjected. That didn’t stop Nott from clambering up Yasha’s back, then Jester’s. She stopped at Jester’s shoulders.

‘It’s really good to have you back.’

‘It’s really good to be back,’ Jester said. She grabbed onto Yasha’s shoulder to stop herself from falling, as they ambled through the city.

‘Did you hear everything that we said?’ Nott asked, as she pulled herself up onto Jester’s shoulders. What a sight they must have been to anyone watching. ‘You know, when we did the ritual?’

Jester grinned.

‘I’ll never tell,’ she said.


End file.
